


Loving You's A Bloodsport

by downintheflames



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, or at least not straight, starts after episode 1.13, super powerful Magnus, vampires shadowhunters and war!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:33:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downintheflames/pseuds/downintheflames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can do whatever you want, I’m still not letting you wake Camille up,” Raphael said, quietly proud of how well he was resisting Simon’s pleas. Simon licked up Raphael’s neck causing Raphael to shiver before he connected their mouths. Raphael pulled on Simon’s bottom lip with his teeth and Simon pressed his chest to Raphael’s.</p><p>From floors below, Raphael heard a vampire yelling “STOP!” Raphael untangled his limbs from Simon and stepped away. Simon stepped after him blinking slowly.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Simon asked when Raphael pushed his hands away.</p><p>“Was this all a ploy?” Raphael yelled at Simon as a crash echoed from below.</p><p>OR<br/>what happens when Simon distracts Raphael instead of Izzy and things get too real for all parties involved. Can they find the Book of the White, wake Jocelyn, and maybe even fix the alliance with the vampire clan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nothing Is Perfect (But Your Imperfections Are Quaint)

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter One

Nothing Is Perfect (But Your Imperfections Are Quaint)

“She’s far too dangerous or did you forget what happened last time you _talked_ to her?” Raphael said in a condescending tone.

Simon simply rolled his eyes back before saying, “it’s not like she can kill me again.”

It took Raphael everything in him not to yell in his face. Simon continually put himself in harm’s way. He’d gotten himself turned into a vampire even though Raphael had tried to stop it. Yes, he had been the one to kidnap Simon in order to put pressure on Clary for the cup. But he never thought Camille would break the accords, that she'd break Simon and morph him into a monster.

Raphael never wanted this for another person. He knew how lonely immortality is, how long forever can stretch, especially when the people you love waste away in front of your eyes. The girl that Simon threw himself in front of demons for was going to die. Not today, not tomorrow, but the years will feel like a blink to Simon while she grays under his permanently youthful fingertips. But Simon doesn’t care, he would sacrifice the whole world for Clary and she would accept it.

Raphael wouldn’t say he hated Clary. He hated her kind and their affinity for valuing downworlder lives less than themselves. She had sacrificed Simon and his mortality for her needs. She’d sacrifice Raphael and the entire clan without a thought. And for what? It was always another clue that led to another clue that led to a riddle that led to a warlock. But all the ends justify the means to shadowhunters, no matter how many downworlders die on their damn crusade.

No, Camille couldn’t kill Simon again. But she twists the best of people, vampires and warlocks alike, around her finger. She plays and manipulates hearts and minds until she gets bored. And she always gets bored. She’ll give the shadowhunters whatever they want just to go along for the ride. She’ll read the dynamic, get a sense of the bonds between them before breaking each and every one like bones. Simon will crack, Clary will snap like a twig under Camille’s games. Camille wouldn’t kill them, she’d never kill anyone. Tombstones are no fun, they don’t react.

She’s a vampire but feeding off of pain is her real vice. Ask anyone unlucky enough to call themselves a past lover of Camille. She leaves them behind and they decay and gather dust like ghost towns. After years, she forgets their names and sometimes they forget their own names too. Raphael didn’t think he’d be able to see Simon left desolate.

Simon was the sun peaking out from behind the clouds after a thunderstorm. He was wooly socks on a cold day. He was a book with the spine cracked and the cover worn down by oil from loving hands. He was everything that Raphael missed about humanity. He’d get so excited that his thoughts would run ahead of his mouth. He stuttered and sputtered out plots of movies and hummed the melodies of songs he’d forgotten the words too. One half of his mouth was always ahead of the other when he smiled. Even as a vampire, he craved coffee. He’d claim every day at sunset that his day wouldn’t begin until he had his fix. Raphael would walk him past cafés and Simon would sniff the beans and his entire body became lighter. “Even in death, I’m a caffeine addict,” he’d say and Raphael loved him.

He loved him, he loved him, he loved him. He loved him and he didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted Simon safe, smiling and happy. Sniffing coffee every morning, telling bad jokes every afternoon, counting stars every night. If Simon would put his own safety behind Clary’s needs, Raphael would put it before anything else.

“I’ll gather her things, you can look through that,” Raphael offered. Simon shook his head before Clary completely rejected the idea.

“We need to talk to her, Raphael,” Simon pleaded. Raphael told himself not to look at him. Every time Simon made a request and gave him that look, Raphael caved. He felt Simon getting closer to him until Simon’s chest was just an inch away from Raphael’s shoulder. “I’ll be careful, I swear.”

“Your version of careful got you turned into a vampire,” Raphael retorted.

“And look how well that turned out,” Simon said with a little giggle. “You get to be annoyed by me for the rest of eternity.”

Raphael didn’t want to cling onto the promise of Simon’s eternity. He didn’t want to put stock in the nonsense Simon said when he wanted something from Raphael.

“Lucky me,” Raphael muttered as he turned away from Simon again. Simon followed after him and Raphael felt Clary’s eyes follow them.

“Raph, come on,” Simon said reaching out to touch Raphael but stopped just shy of Raphael’s shoulder. “What are you so worried about? She’s not going to take the clan back from you.”

“I don’t care about the goddamn clan,” Raphael responded angrily. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. Especially not in a room full of vampires. He quickly sped out of the room and didn’t stop until he reached his room. He threw the door closed behind him but Simon ran in before it fully closed. “I said NO, Simon!”

“This is our last chance to wake Jocelyn!” Simon pleaded. Raphael threw his hands into the air in agitation.

“Why does she matter so much to you?” Raphael yelled as he paced around the room. “She’s not your mother!”

“She’s the closest thing I can have to a mother!” Simon yelled back. Raphael stopped pacing and turned to look at him. “Now that I’m a va- now that I’m like this, I can’t go back home. I can’t be around my mother. I can never tell her where I’ve gone or anything about my life. But I grew up with Clary, Jocelyn has been like a second mom to me. And she’s a shadowhunter! I don’t have to hide from her!”

Raphael looked at him, his entire body softening as the annoyance he felt bled out of his body.

“You don’t have to hide from your mother either, Simon,” he said softly.

“Yes, I do,” was all Simon responded before looking at his shoes. His entire body seemed to be heavier with the sadness. Raphael was in front of him within a breath. Simon pressed his face to Raphael’s shoulder and Raphael wrapped his arms around Simon’s waist.

“I wish I could fix this,” Raphael whispered as he ran his hands up and down Simon’s back.

“You didn’t break it, Raph,” Simon breathed back before wrapping his arms around Raphael and pulling their bodies closer.

“I like when you call me Raph,” Raphael responded. He immediately felt stupid and embarrassed by his confession. He felt Simon smile against his shoulder.

“Raph, Raph, Raph,” he mumbled against Raphael’s jacket.

“Now you’re ruining it,” Raphael said with a soft chuckle. Simon turned his head and continued to repeat the nickname, pressing his face against Raphael’s cheek. Raphael laughed harder as Simon said it over and over as Raphael tried to squirm away. “Babe, stop,” he giggled back.

Simon had let him go and Raphael stumbled back, a smile still on his face. After a moment of silence, Raphael realized what he said. Simon had his head tilted to the side with his eyebrows knitted together. Raphael’s cheeks would have been bright red if he wasn’t dead. After a few more moments of silence where Raphael debated throwing himself into sunlight, Simon cracked a smile.

“I like when you call me that,” he said with a flirty smile and waggled his eyebrows at Raphael. Raphael tried to smirk back but it turned into a grin as Simon stepped closer to him. “So, Raph?”

“Yes, Simon?” Raphael answered, he kept trying to bite back his smile but it kept coming. Simon took another step closer to him and Raphael forgot for a minute how to breathe. He was centuries old but Simon made him feel like a teenager again.

“Can I please talk to Camille about the book?” he asked as he inched closer. His left hand brushed a stray hair off of Raphael’s forehead while the other rested against Raphael’s chest. Raphael leaned into Simon’s touch and put his fingers in Simon’s belt loops.

“No,” he answered softly with a smirk.

“Babe,” Simon whispered as his hand cupped the back of Raphael’s head and pulled him closer. Their mouths were impossibly close. “Please,” he said and Raphael felt his breath on his skin.

“Babe,” Raphael responded pulling Simon closer by the belt loops. “Not a chance,” he leaned forward but Simon pulled away.

“Raph, please, I need it,” Simon pleaded.

“And I need you safe,” Raphael responded with an intimate tone he had never used on anyone. Simon stayed still as he waited for Raphael to continue. “You don’t know what Camille can do. I know you think you know, but turning you into a monster isn’t the worst she can do to you.”

Simon bumped his nose against Raphael’s and Raphael smiled in response.

“I’m not a monster,” he said with a smile. “You taught me that.” Raphael leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Simon’s. Simon smiled into the kiss and Raphael twirled his fingers into Simon’s curls. Simon pulled away and peppered light kisses along Raphael’s jaw line and Raphael giggled as he pulled Simon’s hair lightly. Simon kissed on Raphael’s pulse point and Raphael sighed. He felt Simon’s smirk against his skin before he pressed his lips to the spot again.

“You can do whatever you want, I’m still not letting you wake Camille up,” Raphael said, quietly proud of how well he was resisting Simon’s pleas. Simon licked up Raphael’s neck causing Raphael to shiver before he connected their mouths. Raphael pulled on Simon’s bottom lip with his teeth and Simon pressed his chest to Raphael’s.

From floors below, Raphael heard a vampire yelling “STOP!” Raphael untangled his limbs from Simon and stepped away. Simon stepped after him blinking slowly.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked when Raphael pushed his hands away.

“Was this all a ploy?” Raphael yelled at Simon as a crash echoed from below. Simon twisted towards the door as his heightened senses finally heard the commotion downstairs.

“I didn’t do this!” Simon yelled to Raphael but Raphael had already ran out of the room towards the basement where Camille was locked. He had only reached the first floor when he found one vampire already on the ground wounded and Isabelle was twirling her whip to hit him again. Raphael jumped between them and the whip wrapped around his forearm. He shouted as it burned his skin before she retracted it. Camille was standing behind Isabelle as Clary drew a rune onto the wall behind them with her stele. Simon entered the hallway right before the wall exploded. Sunlight poured into the hotel separating Raphael and Simon. The vampire on the floor screamed in agony as it fell on him. Raphael began to pull him into the shadows and watched as Clary, Camille, and Isabelle ran to the tunnel entrance that would lead them out of the hotel and into the subway tunnels.

“Simon, come on!” Clary shouted. Simon looked back at Raphael, one hand reaching towards him, the other was being pulled by Clary. Raphael could have sworn he mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ before disappearing down the tunnel.


	2. If I Fall Short, If I Break Rank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He thinks I betrayed him,” Simon said and was surprised by how broken his voice sounded.
> 
> “Well you did, my little caramel,” Camille purred as she twirled her long raven hair around her finger.
> 
> “Not intentionally!” Simon yelled back. Isabelle visibly flinched from his voice. “Why didn’t you just wait? That was my home you just blasted a hole into!”
> 
> “That’s not your home, Simon!” Clary yelled back. “Your home is-”
> 
> “Where?” Simon interrupted.
> 
> “You used to say I was your home,” Clary said quietly.
> 
> “Interesting,” Camille purred.

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Two

If I Fall Short, If I Break Rank

            Simon stumbled behind Clary, his hand still intertwined with hers. Her skin was hot against his skin and he pulled away as he stopped walking.

            “Simon, come on,” Clary said pulling on his elbow. Simon yanked his elbow away and turned away from her. “Simon, what’s wrong? Did Raphael hurt you?”

            “Of course he didn’t hurt me,” Simon responded then turned to face her. “Why did you do that? I was working on it, Raphael was going to let us talk to Camille! We were…we were in the middle of negotiating! He was coming around!”

            Camille then laughed from where she was leaning against the wall. “Oh Caramel, I don’t believe that for a moment.”

            “Good thing what you think doesn’t matter much,” Clary retorted with venom in her voice. She hadn’t unclenched her fist around her seraph blade and now had it pointed towards Camille. “Lead the way to the book and maybe if you’re quiet enough, I won’t put you back in the dirt you crawled out of.”

            Camille smirked at Simon before she pushed off the wall and continued to sashay down the tunnel. Isabelle was directly behind her, her blade unsheathed also. Simon stumbled after them but kept looking over his shoulder.

            He should go back. He should explain that it wasn’t a plan. Him and Raphael- them together, the bedroom, none of that was planned. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want that. Not that he didn’t want what happened. To be honest, he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. But when Clary’s hand was in his, it was too hot. He missed Raphael’s hands, the way his fingers had twirled through Simon’s hair, the way he pulled on Simon’s belt loops.

            He glanced at Clary walking next to him. Her eyebrows were knitted together in tension and all her limbs were prepared to strike if Camille so much as hiccuped. All the softness that Simon had loved for years was locked away, all her emotions shoved so far down Simon was sure they were in her toes or something. He still loved her and would do anything to make sure she was safe, healthy, and happy. But when she glanced over him, he missed Raphael’s eyes.

            Raphael was like all the nights Simon would climb to the roof after a bad fight with his mom. He was rolled eyes and retorts. He scoffed when Simon would rant endlessly but the way his mouth would pull into a small smile let Simon know he was listening. He was stubborn and never buckled on his word, but Simon couldn’t stop thinking about the way Raphael’s breath sped up when Simon touched him. Or the way Raphael’s knees wobbled when Simon pulled his lips away from his. Or the way his mouth fell open when he realized he called Simon babe or the way his whole body melted against Simon’s when he called him Raph.

            “Raph,” Simon said quietly with a smile before turning around.

            “Simon!” Clary yelled and grabbed his arm before he could run down the tunnel back to the clan. “We’ll fix it later, okay. Right now, all that matters is the book! If you go back now, all of this will have been for nothing.”

            Camille smirked next to Isabelle from a few feet away while Isabelle looked forward down the tunnel.

            “He thinks I betrayed him,” Simon said and was surprised by how broken his voice sounded.

            “Well you did, my little caramel,” Camille purred as she twirled her long raven hair around her finger.

            “Not intentionally!” Simon yelled back. Isabelle visibly flinched from his voice. “Why didn’t you just wait? That was my home you just blasted a hole into!”

            “That’s not your home, Simon!” Clary yelled back. “Your home is-”

            “Where?” Simon interrupted.

            “You used to say I was your home,” Clary said quietly.

            “Interesting,” Camille purred before she laughed without humor. “Can we get a move on? I would rather not be standing here when the sun sets and Raphael comes looking.”

            “Let’s go,” was all Clary responded with. She grabbed Camille above her elbow and shoved her ahead. But Simon didn’t move.

            “Simon, hombrecito venga conmigo,” Isabelle said softly in Spanish. Simon didn’t understand the Spanish but the recognized the tone of voice. Raphael used it when Simon hit the ground a little too hard during training. Simon sighed once more before turning and following after.

            Camille slowed her pace and walked alongside Simon. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and softly brushed a finger against his cheek and along his jawline. “I’ve been thinking,” she purred against his ear.

            “I didn’t know you could do that,” Clary interrupted but Camille ignored her.

            “I’m really not getting anything out of this little arrangement,” she purred.

            “You were chained in a coffin not twenty minutes ago,” Clary said as she pulled Camille off of him and pushed her ahead of them again.

            “If we’re going to go through with this,” Camille said sternly blocking the path. “I want a guarantee that the clave won’t come after me.”

            “Pinky swear,” Clary retorted as she reached to push Camille ahead again.

            “Sign one teensy document stating that you wanted me to turn you into a vampire and I’ll give you the book.”

            “Absolutely not,” Isabelle answered immediately.

            “How about you give us the book and I won’t kill you,” Clary counteroffered with her seraph blade pressed against Camille’s throat.

            Camille simply smirked at Simon. He hadn’t even had a chance to think about it before Clary and Isabelle answered for him. If he signed it, Camille would get away with turning him into a vampire. But he didn’t really feel like he needed to punish her for it anymore.

            “Done,” he said simply. He pushed Clary’s blade away before motioning Camille to lead the way. “After you.”

            “Simon, you don’t understand what you’re doing,” Clary said as she grabbed onto his jacket. “She’s going to get away with turning you into this!”

            Simon pulled his arm away from her and answered, “Why are you acting like my transformation happened to you? This is my life and my body, I’ll sign the paper.”

            “She’ll never be punished for breaking the accords!” Clary yelled.

            “Please stop acting like you knew what those were before two weeks ago,” Simon shouted back. Clary reacted like he had slapped her. “You’re upset because I’m a vampire, not that she did something illegal. Can we move on?”

            He turned away from her to find Camille smirking at the whole scene. He waved her on. She blew Clary a kiss, turned on her heel, and walked much faster.

            “We’re going to have to make a little detour to get the contract,” Camille called over her shoulder. “Then you’ll have the book.”

            Simon nodded and with Clary and Isabelle close behind, Camille led them to Magnus’s doorstep. Magnus opened the door with a grimace.

            “Hello, my love,” she said as she ran her hand along Magnus’s side before slipping into the apartment.

            Magnus looked at Isabelle with wide eyes, “Why did you bring the monster here?”

            “We need your help,” Clary provided.

            “I would have come to you,” he said, his voice filled with unease. “I don’t want her in my home!”

            “I’m sorry, Magnus! She won’t help us until Simon signs saying he wanted to be turned into a vampire. Just make the contract and we’ll be gone,” Isabelle pleaded. He sighed before allowing them into the apartment.

            Camille was sprawled on one of the couches with a smirk on her lips.

            “Why don’t you look happy to see me, love?” Camille asked as she climbed to her feet and sauntered over to him. Magnus dodged her as he walked to his desk and pulled out a sheet of parchment. He stared down at it, all of his limbs tense. “Are you still upset about that short lived Russian? It’s been over a hundred years, love. Let it go.”

            She ran a hand up his spine and he buckled under her touch and curved forward like a cat under a stream of water. She laughed as she leaned further into him. Clary and Simon watched on confused. Simon had never seen Magnus wince.

            “I’m going to call for backup,” Izzy said quietly to them and walked out of the room. Simon wished he could follow her but there was no telling what Camille would do if left alone with Magnus.

            “Maybe give him some room so he can do his magic,” Simon said as he took a step towards the duo.

            “He can do magic under much more duress than this, caramel,” she purred as she dragged another finger along his side. “Don’t worry.”

            Magnus hand shook as it hovered over the parchment. Simon took another step closer, part of him very afraid to touch Camille but the other part of him felt compelled to help. But before he could reach her, Camille sniffed and smirked.

            “Angel blood,” she mumbled before she whipped Magnus around and kissed him full on the mouth. Magnus’s hands shot up in the air.

            “WHOA, time out!” Simon yelled.

Alec and Isabelle entered the room and Camille released Magnus. He stumbled back against the desk and turned to see Alec and Izzy. He immediately took a step towards Alec but Alec broke eye contact to look at Camille.

“What’s going on here?” Alec asked.

“It’s complicated,” Magnus replied as he tried to catch Alec’s eye again.

“Clearly,” Isabelle respond. Her tone was harsh, her entire body tense as she held back her instinct to wrap her whip around Camille’s throat.

“Magnus, just finish the contract,” Simon said softly as he walked between Izzy and Camille. He put his hand on Magnus’s shoulder softly and Magnus flinched under the pressure before turning back to the desk.

“Magnus is just whipping up a little contract, we need his magic that’s all,” Camille said with a smirk as she walked towards Alec. Alec’s eyebrows knitted together as she neared him.

“That required a lip lock?” Izzy interrupted as she stepped in front of Camille to block her path to Alec.

“I know just the trick to get Magnus’s juices flowing,” Camille replied. “I’m sure you’ll learn eventually, little shadowhunter. Though it did take me a few decades to find all the right ways. Maybe you’ll get it right before you turn fifty.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Alec replied before walking out of the room with Clary on his heels.

Magnus closed his eyes trying to focus completely on the spell he was casting. Simon tried to soothe him as Izzy mumbled to herself in Spanish. It was a tense moment that could erupt in violence at any moment, Simon shouldn’t have been thinking about Raphael but he was. Raphael was the only person Simon had seen put Camille in her place. Simon wished he had listened to him. Even if it took them another month to find the Book of White, it would have been better than seeing Magnus on edge like this.

“I’m sorry we did this to you,” Simon whispered to Magnus. Magnus nodded once, impossibly kind even in distress.

“All finished,” he said with a flourish. He handed the contract to Simon and said quietly, “Do be careful.”

“I’ll see you soon, my pet,” Camille purred to Magnus and when Alec reentered the room she added, “if not this century, the next for sure.”

Alec stiffened again at the reminder of his mortality. Clary snatched the contract from Simon’s hand and rolled it up.

“You’ll get this signed once we get the book,” she said simply and tucked it into her bag.

“Let’s go, lead the way,” Isabelle commanded pointing Camille towards the door. Clary, Isabelle, and Camille exited the apartment.

“Alec,” Magnus started but Alec just pulled him into a hug. “I swear the feelings I had for her are ancient history,” Magnus said against his chest.

“I know,” Alec replied into Magnus’s hair. “Isabelle called because she thought Camille was going to hurt you. I didn’t run over here because you were with your ex.”

“You ran the whole way?” Magnus asked with a chuckle.

“Of course,” Alec replied, his voice so soft Simon felt himself melt.

“What a workout,” Simon added quietly. Magnus and Alec broke apart, obviously unaware of Simon’s presence. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to apologize again.”

“What did you do?” Alec asked with the harsh tone he seemed to have reserved just for Simon.

“I- We should have listened to Raphael,” Simon admitted quietly. “I didn’t know she had abused you, Magnus. I never would have let her out, I swear. I wouldn’t have brought her here either. Hell, I would have gone to London to find another warlock before bringing her here.”

Magnus stared at his hands while he listened to Simon ramble his apologies. “You mean well but sometimes you say too much, young vampire” he said quietly.

“¡AHORA, ALEC! ¡O YO MATARÉ ESTA VAMPIRESA!” Izzy screamed from the hallway.

Alec chuckled and then kissed Magnus on the forehead. “We have to go but I’ll call you later,” he said quietly. He grabbed Simon by the jacket and steered him out of the apartment.

Magnus watched them leave before taking out his phone and scrolling down to Raphael's name.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! I did not expect such a positive reaction! Sorry there's not much Saphael here but more is coming for sure!  
> If you want to talk or ask me any questions or request anything, I'm alecalrightwood on tumblr.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses!
> 
> -C


	3. It's Too Late (Because I've Already Decided Their Fate)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told them no, Magnus,” he said. His voice sounded so helpless and hurt before he gritted his teeth. “I said no, again and again. Even when Simon was…when Simon was…” He trailed off and Magnus waited patiently for him to continue. “I told them no and I walked away. The conversation should have ended there but Simon followed. Why does he always follow? I can’t go four steps without him trailing behind me.”  
> Raphael breath shook and he just looked sadly at his hands, “I guess it’s going to be quiet now.”

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Three

It’s Too Late (Because I’ve Already Decided Their Fate)

            Raphael picked up on the second ring, “Magnus, I don’t have time to talk right now.”

            “She was here,” Magnus replied as he sat down on the plush couch in his living room. He couldn’t seem to stop shaking but he finally got control of his breathing. As soon as the door had closed behind Alec, he had been reduced to tears just from the memory of Camille’s hands on him. “I thought you said you’d never let the bitch out of the box.” His voice was shaky and he hated it. He was the high warlock of Brooklyn. He did not crumble when he lost his lovers and he would not fall apart at the memory of one that had left him hollow and filled with echoes like a haunted house.

            “Camille was there? Why?” Raphael asked loudly into the phone. There was commotion behind him and a lot of yelling and hissing.

            “What’s going on there?” Magnus asked as he pulled the phone away from his ear.

            “Nicolas got hurt when they broke her out,” Raphael replied and suddenly it was quiet on his end. Magnus could hear a door closing. “They blew a hole in the wall of the hotel, flooded the hotel with sunlight and Nicolas got caught in it. I can’t even get to the basement to see the havoc they caused there. I had two vampires guarding the chamber. They’re probably dead now.”

            “I’ll come fix the wall,” Magnus said as he climbed to his feet. He closed his eyes and then purple magic swirled in the palms of his hands. He opened a portal and was through it within ten seconds.

            “Its okay, Magnus,” Raphael said into the phone but Magnus had already opened the portal and appeared behind him. “The vampires want blood for this attack,” he said turning towards Magnus as the portal closed.

            “And that’s completely understandable,” Magnus replied and Raphael hung up the phone call. “I don’t understand how this happened though. Simon is-”

            “He was in on it,” Raphael interrupted and turned away from Magnus. He placed his hands over his face as if he was trying to shut the entire world out. He shoulders were stiff as if we was mentally pouring cement down his throat. He was always still in his sadness, Magnus had watched him swallow screams for decades. He could have sworn Raphael made statues envious of his stillness. “How could I let this happen?”

            “Did he hurt you?” Magnus asked. He was sitting on Raphael’s bed with his feet tucked under him. He had known Raphael for years and knew not to approach Raphael unless Raphael had invited it. He had always been the type to shy away from intimacy of any kind. He didn’t like to touch or be touched. He just wanted to exist in and of himself, without any outside influence. After seventy years, he was still trying to enforce agency for himself and build concrete boundaries. Camille had bulldozed over Raphael’s boundaries over and over again. She never accepted “no” as an answer and Raphael had spent twenty years crawling out from under her thumb. To see him now, with Camille back on the loose, brought Magnus back to his time with Camille’s nails dragging down his skin too hard to ever be considered pleasurable.

            “Not physically,” Raphael said quietly after a few moments. He faced Magnus again and attempted a smile to reassure his old friend. Magnus could have sworn Raphael’s spine was made of steel.

            “Can you just walk me through it? I need to understand,” Magnus asked as he motioned for Raphael to sit next to him. “I also need to move my lair soon so she can’t show up again,” he added absentmindedly.

            “I told them no, Magnus,” he said. His voice sounded so helpless and hurt before he gritted his teeth. “I said no, again and again. Even when Simon was…when Simon was…” He trailed off and Magnus waited patiently for him to continue. “I told them no and I walked away. The conversation should have ended there but Simon followed. Why does he always follow? I can’t go four steps without him trailing behind me.”

            Raphael breath shook and he just looked sadly at his hands, “I guess it’s going to be quiet now.” Magnus shifted to face him. Raphael’s entire frame was tense, as if every cell was still trying to understand what happened too. Magnus waited patiently, he had all the time in the world. He smiled to himself as he thought that that was one thing Alec would have to get used to. Immortality tends to make one take as much time as needed to sort out thoughts and pick each word carefully. As if Alec knew he was thinking about him, Alec texted him.

            “I think it’d be best if you moved your lair…” was all Alec typed. Magnus smiled to himself. Alec was always in the position of protector. Even when he was vulnerable with Magnus, it was in a protective manner. He became vulnerable when he knew Magnus needed reciprocation but he rarely initiated it.

            “I will as soon as I can,” he responded. He glanced back at Raphael but he was just staring at his hands, every few minutes running his fingers lightly over his mouth.

            “Maybe you could even put it closer to the Institute…” Alec sent which made Magnus smile.

            “I was thinking I’d put it closer to this amazing Ethiopian restaurant on 44th actually,” Magnus typed with a smirk.

            “He called me Raph,” Raphael said quietly. Magnus immediately pushed his phone back into his pocket.

            “Isn’t that what your mother called you?” Magnus asked softly. Magnus remembered Guadeloupe well. She was a kind woman that loved Raphael more than anything and only wanted him safe. She had raised him in Catholicism and gave Raphael the gold cross necklace that had burnt a permanent scar into his skin. Even years later, Raphael still spoke of being raised a good Catholic by his mother. Part of Magnus wondered if it was because the last bit of connection he had to his mother.

            “He said Jocelyn Fairchild was basically a mother to him since he was a monster to his own mother,” Raphael continued. “And I just…I felt for him, He’s hurting the same way I was all those…all those years ago. But he said that I am the reason he doesn’t think himself a monster anymore.” He turned his to look at Magnus. Tears were swimming in Magnus’s eyes, he had never been one to be stoic when Raphael was expressing pain. If Raphael couldn’t cry, Magnus would weep an ocean for him. He nodded Raphael on with his story. “So I kissed him.”

            “You what?” Magnus asked, trying and failing to keep the absolute shock out of his voice. He wiped the stray tears away as the sadness he felt with his friend was replaced with extreme confusion.

            “I didn’t plan it, but he was there and he was sad and he kept calling me Raph,” Raphael was talking so quickly he was skipping breaths and a shy smile had broken across his face. “and when I told him I liked it, he started saying it right in my ear and I could feel his breath and hear his heartbeat and then I called him babe on accident.”

            Magnus flopped backwards on the bed in disbelief. Raphael hadn’t so much as hugged another person since his mother’s funeral. “And what did he say to that?”

            “He said he liked it when I called him that,” Raphael said sheepishly. Magnus didn’t verbally react but orange magic flickered from his fingers. “Then he touched me.”

            Magnus sat up so quickly he scared Raphael, “touched you WHERE?!”

            “He brushed my hair off my forehead.”

            “Salacious,” Magnus replied dryly before flopping back on the bed.

            “Then he asked me if he could talk to Camille,” Raphael continued, his voice getting smaller with every word. “And he called me babe and my fingers were in his belt loops and his hands were in my hair.”

            “Seductress and Simon are two words I would never have put together in a sentence.”

            “I don’t think he was trying to seduce me,” Raphael retorted.

            “Probably not intentionally, but there you were…seduced by Simon Lewis.”

            “I wasn’t going to take him to bed,” Raphael shouted as he stood up. “I’m the clan leader and he is my adviser!”

            “That’s a position you made up to spend more time with him.”

            Raphael stewed silently. Magnus sat up again and studied Raphael’s profile. He was obviously struggling with this, maybe in the same way Alec was.

            “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said softly. Raphael looked at him with his eyes wide. “You wanted to be around someone that made you feel something. You’re fond of him. There’s bravery even in admitting someone can make you feel something.”

            “The last time I craved something this much, I bled all my friends dry,” Raphael admitted with his voice almost a whisper.

            “Are you talking about when you first turned?” Raphael only nodded in reply. “The last time you let yourself want something was the one time you couldn’t have stopped yourself?”

            “Simon didn’t kill Clary or Jace and they were right next to the grave when he crawled out.”

            “And so were you, Raphael. You’re the reason he didn’t hurt anyone when he first turned. Who knows how many lives you saved that night.”

            “The one thing I don’t understand is,” Raphael stopped himself and took a deep breath.

            “What?”

            “He kept asking just to talk to her,” Raphael answered. It was obvious he had decided against saying what he was going to say originally but Magnus didn’t push him. “He didn’t say he wanted to break her out of here. But he kissed me harder after I said no.”

            “Wait, he didn’t pull away and only let you kiss him when you gave him what he wanted?”

            “No.”

            “And then what happened?”

            “I heard a shout from downstairs.”

            “What did Simon say?”

            “I asked him if it was a ploy and he just yelled that he didn’t do it.”

            “Then what?”

            “We ran downstairs. We found the Lightwood girl whipping Nicolas, I intervened and got this,” he pulled up his jacket sleeve. His tan skin was torn and blackened from the whip. Magnus immediately took his arm and light pink magic came from his hand. Magnus nodded for Raphael to continue. “Simon immediately ran to Isabelle and Clary used a rune on the wall. Before I could do anything, the wall exploded and sunlight flooded in. Nicolas was caught under it and I was trying to pull him out but he was badly burnt. They escaped through the tunnels.”

            “And Simon?”

“He went with them. He didn’t say anything, he just walked away like none of it mattered. Like Clary was the one that saved his life, or carried his body to the institute or buried him or kept him from ripping her throat out. He left like this clan didn’t matter to him at all.”

Magnus finished the spell. Raphael’s skin was healed but the pain was still there. Magnus wasn’t sure if the pain of what had happened would ever dissipate. The first person Raphael had allowed inside his walls and possibly his heart had chosen someone else over him. Magnus knew Raphael would never admit how badly the betrayal hurt or how confused he was or how his feelings for Simon felt like acid in his veins now. Raphael didn’t say anything but he winced as he pulled his jacket back down.

            “Take me to Nicolas,” Magnus said flatly. His entire body was tense from hearing of the attack on the hotel. An alliance had been formed between the vampires, werewolves, and the shadowhunters. Was the alliance with the vampires just a means to an end? Something to throw away as soon as they got what they needed? Was the alliance with the werewolves just as fragile? Had Clary, newly introduced to the shadow world, already been tainted by the arrogance so many shadow hunters wore as a shield? Did she already think less of the rest of the downworld? As if they were a stain to simply ignore but never eradicate? She wasn’t a cold blooded killer, Magnus knew that. She wasn’t that much of Valentine’s daughter. She was more Jocelyn than she probably even realized. But how many downworlder lives would she sacrifice for what she wanted? Clary was the one to create the alliance and she was the first one to break it. There was no saying if a war would ensue. Raphael lead Magnus through the hotel and Magnus followed blindly as he tried to sort out exactly what he needed to do to fix the situation. Old Magnus would pack up his lair and flee the hemisphere but for once he had a reason to stay. And that reason chose that particular moment to send him a text.

            “Jace went with Valentine” was all Alec had sent. Magnus stopped in his tracks as he stared at his phone screen.

            “You know the worst part of the whole thing?” Raphael grumbled from a few paces ahead of Magnus. “Another one of my jackets was ruined. My clothes were fine before Simon came into my life.”

            “I’ll be there as soon as I can” Magnus texted. He caught up to Raphael easily and when they reached Nicolas’s bedroom he did everything he could but only time and a lot of blood would get the vampire back on his feet. Raphael then took him to the room where everything happened. It was an easy enough spell to fix what Clary had exploded but the bricks looked different. Like a scar next to virgin skin, it’d never blend in. It’d always be something that formed in the aftermath and stood out, like a broken nose that never healed straight.

            “Raphael, I’m sorry to leave you but I’m needed at the Institute,” Magnus said with his hand outreached towards Raphael. “I would stay and help more but I need to figure out where Camille is going so I can go in the opposite direction.” It was a lie but it would hurt Raphael more to know he was choosing to comfort a shadowhunter over him when he was hurting because of a shadowhunter.

            “Good,” Raphael replied as he stared at the scorch marks on the floor from Nicolas’s body. There was fire dancing in eyes. Grief and rage had been smoldering beneath the surface of his skin for years and finally the wildfire had erupted. Magnus wasn’t so sure he or anyone would be able to extinguish it. “Tell the shadowhunters that the New York vampire clan has a kill order placed on any shadowhunter that dares to step foot in East Harlem.”

Vampires had begun to trickle into the hallway at the sound of their leader’s angry voice. “They killed two vampires and injured two more in their own home,” Raphael yelled. “They were allowed in this hotel under the guise of allies and then slaughtered the vampires that trusted them. They broke the alliance and the accords. The Night Children have not forgotten the taste of angel blood and we are insatiable.”

            The hallway erupted in applause as Raphael finished. His fangs were bared as he turned to smile at Magnus. Magnus could have sworn he saw a bit of Camille twinkle in his eyes. He nodded to Raphael before opening a portal and stepping through thinking only of the atrium Alec had kissed him in front of the entire clave, the last time Magnus felt safe. His feet landed without a sound. He stared at the empty chairs and couldn’t help but imagine all the ghosts of his lost friends filling them. He had watched the world burn from war too many times, and here he was again on the precipice of another war.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, day three of this massive fic posting kick I've been on. I've been writing a chapter a day and posting it right away and honestly it's been a whirlwind. Thank you for keeping up with me. I'm not sure if the posting is going to slow down or not, finals week is coming up.  
> We've finally hit the point where the story really kicks off so let me know if you're ready for the ride.  
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.  
> -C


	4. We Are An Army (That Breaks From Within)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you even know their names?” Magnus asked, his voice like ice.  
> “Whose names?” Clary asked.  
> “The names of the three vampires you killed tonight,” Alec responded.

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Four

We Are An Army (That Breaks From Within)

            Alec paced in front of Magnus, his mind moving a million miles a minute as he tried to understand what had happened. Jace had only been gone an hour and already Alec felt like the entire world was spinning backwards under his feet. He could feel Magnus’s eyes on him, catlike as his entire concentration was on the problem in front of them rather than a glamour. Magnus had quickly told him everything that he had seen and been told at the hotel. Magnus got the text that Nicolas’s wounds couldn’t be healed and that he had died. Magnus had reacted by throwing his phone against the wall only to repair it moments later with his magic. Alec had simply watched feeling entirely helpless. More than helpless, he felt useless and inept. He hadn’t stopped Jace, his own parabatai. His brother. His first love. He winced at the thought and continued his pacing. Thinking of Jace and the way the feelings he carried, like a mouthful of stones, still caused a slight sting. He had spent years doing everything, being the best he could possibly be, giving everything he had. And it still hadn’t been enough. Alec felt like the words “not enough” were branded on his chest, like the entire world could see his inadequacy just by glancing at him.

            “I have to tell the clave,” Alec said matter-of-fact running a hand over his face. He didn’t want to, he was pretty sure he was the last person the clave wanted to hear from but he would have to face them. He’d endure the awkward pauses and the judgmental silence, it was his duty. He knew the cold reaction he would receive from the clave when he made the choice to come out, when he made the choice to be happy, when he chose Magnus. He was a Lightwood. They broke noses and the doors off of closets and accepted the consequences.

            “What will you tell them?” Magnus asked, his voice hard and tired. Alec had never heard the years in Magnus’s voice but he sounded like he had lived a thousand years and each one was getting immensely more difficult to get through.

            “That I broke the accords in order to get the Book of the White,” Alec responded. He turned away from Magnus because he knew the look Magnus was giving him, like it was a personal slight against him whenever Alec put his own life and position in danger. Magnus was invested in his wellbeing in a way that Alec could not understand and at times was made uncomfortable by. Part of him was waiting for the day that Magnus would see him for what he truly was and leave. But there were more important things than him, and one of them was Isabelle. She and Clary had broken the law, but Alec should have been there to stop them. He was the leader and the big brother, it was his responsibility.

            “Alexander,” Magnus pleaded as he rose to his feet and put his hand on Alec’s back. He couldn’t help the way his heart sped up whenever Magnus was near him, even when the world was falling apart, Magnus made him feel light.

            “Izzy’s trial just finished,” Alec responded. He gritted his teeth as he bit back his emotions. Shadowhunters do what is right, regardless of what they feel. “She’s my responsibility. Izzy and Jace both are, and I already lost…”

He tried to take a breath but it was shaky and he felt his heart break and the parabatai rune on his hip ache. Magnus’s arms were instantly around his shoulders. Alec sank into a chair and Magnus stood between his legs, Magnus’s forehead was pressed against the top of his hair while he rubbed circles onto his back. He pressed his face against Magnus’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. He didn’t tell him it would be okay, or that it would all work out. As if he knew that empty promises like that never put Alec at ease. It wouldn’t be okay unless Alec fixed it, it wouldn’t work out unless Alec stepped in and forced the broken pieces back into place. His entire life was a jigsaw puzzle that he had haphazardly slammed into place.

“We’ll find a way to fix this, Alexander,” Magnus murmured, his hands slowly rubbing Alec’s scalp as he calmed his breathing.

Before he could respond, the loud clicks of high heels on the tile interrupted the silence. Isabelle entered the nearly empty atrium, her face visibly softened when she saw Magnus holding Alec. But the moment was broken and Alec straightened his shoulders and stood again.

“The clave knows,” Isabelle stated. Her voice was flat and she was fidgeting, as if her whole body was made of glass and the smallest of movements could shatter her completely. She rarely showed her vulnerability. She often expressed her emotions through motion, wither it be the snap of her whip or a night spent in the seelie kingdom. She looked impossibly small as she stood there pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands like she was ashamed of what they had done and failed to do.

“We need to talk,” Alec responded flatly. He wanted to hold Isabelle and take the pain out of her chest and make her laugh, but he wouldn’t put her back together just to knock her over again. He was never the type to give false hope, he knew how it felt to build expectations high as skyscrapers just to be crushed by the wreckage when the hopes folded in on themselves. Isabelle looked from Alec to Magnus but Magnus kept his eyes on the ground. Alec was the leader, the big brother, and the diplomat. Magnus understood that and Alec hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Magnus slid his hand into his and he exhaled. Isabelle lead the way back to the control room and Magnus and Alec followed, with Magnus rubbing Alec’s palm with his thumb. Without thinking, Alec brought their intertwined hands to his mouth and brushed his lips against the back of Magnus’s. It felt right with him and Magnus. The intimacy did come infrequently but when it did come, it never felt forced. It felt right. It felt like being safe and being sure that it was what he wanted. He had spent so many years neglecting his every need and want because he was ashamed and never felt like he was deserving of affection or care. He was ashamed of his feelings for Jace and he had no idea what he wanted or how to express anything so he just buried it and by the age of seventeen, he was sure that his heart had started to rot. Part of him wasn’t sure if it was even a viable organ anymore, but then he saw Magnus and it was like the sun was finally touching parts of him that he had kept hidden in the shadows. Within just weeks of knowing Magnus and Alec was out to not only Izzy and Jace, but his parents, even the entire clave. He felt the way other shadowhunters’ gazes lingering on him as he passed by, he heard the murmurs. He was not ignorant to the judgment, he just finally didn’t care. He had made a decision that had made him happy and that was all that mattered.

Their hands drifted apart as they entered into the control room. Clary immediately rose from her seat to hug Magnus and Alec sat down next to Simon. Simon looked at him timidly and Alec tried (and failed) to not have his anger and anxiety showing on his face. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened at the hotel.”

Simon visibly tensed and Clary immediately returned to his side. She slid her hand into Simon’s and squeezed lightly. Alec tried not to roll his eyes at the needless showcasing of solidarity. Magnus stepped quietly behind Alec and Alec could feel the magic radiating off of him. Simon looked up at Magnus and stiffened even more. Alec didn’t need to turn around to know that Magnus wasn’t hiding his cat eyes.

“We went to the hotel to ask Raphael if we could speak to Camille,” Simon began in a shaky voice. “But he kept saying no and then when he went to his room I followed him to try and persuade him.”

Magnus snorted behind Alec and said in a sarcastic tone, “is that what you’re calling it now?”

“What are you talking about?” Isabelle asked from the other side of the table. “What happened wasn’t Simon’s fault. He went to talk to Raphael and I decided that we were running out of time.”

“You didn’t decide,” Clary interrupted. “I did. You don’t have to cover for me, I’m not a mundane.”

“So, you just decided that the alliance _you_ made with the vampires without clave approval was suddenly null and void?” Magnus asked. Clary narrowed her eyes at him.

“We needed to speak to Camille and Raphael wasn’t going to let us,” she retorted.

“You don’t know that,” Alec said as he tried to reign in his anger.

“You weren’t there, I think I know better than you,” Clary said sharply. Alec stared at her. Her eyes were red from the tears she had shed when Jace chose to walk away from her- from them. She had a cut and soot on her face, Alec assumed it was from the explosion. She looked like she was stretched thin, her skin just paper over her bones. Her fingernails were bitten down, her lip chewed to the point of rawness. Her anxiety of the last few weeks had taken its toll, but Alec knew that that didn’t excuse her, not in the eyes of the clave and certainly not in the eyes of the vampires.

“Do you even know their names?” Magnus asked, his voice like ice.

“Whose names?” Clary asked.

“The names of the three vampires you killed tonight,” Alec responded.

“They wouldn’t let us see Camille!”

“So you decided their lives didn’t matter?” Magnus was nearly shouting. Alec stood and attempted to steer Magnus from the room, this was not the place to create a scene. “Nicolas, Adrian, and Julianna!” Magnus yelled from around Alec’s body.

“We needed the book!” Clary shouted back. “We need it to wake my mother!”

With that Magnus’s magic exploded off of his body. The unoccupied chairs and Alec both toppled to the floor but no one noticed; all eyes were on Magnus. His frame was surrounded by what appeared to be purple flames, his eyes bright orange, his face pulled into a snarl. Alec stared from the floor.

“Clary Fairchild, you made an alliance with the Night Children and the New York pack. An alliance that no shadowhunter, werewolf, or vampire would cause harm unto the other. That the three separate entities would work together to find Valentine and end the senseless, meaningless slow genocide of downworlders,” Magnus’s voice boomed throughout the control room. Clary’s eyes were wide with fear and she was unmoving as Magnus continued. “You broke that alliance, you facilitated the murder of three vampires within their own home. You bombed the hotel and you released a traitor that they had imprisoned.”

The other shadowhunters had begun to draw near, their seraph blades drawn in fear of what Magnus would possibly do. Alec quickly climbed to his feet and slowly walked towards Magnus. Magnus’s cat eyes turned to him and all Alec could see was the pain of Clary and Isabelle’s betrayal swimming in them. “I’ll take it from here,” Alec said softly and Magnus turned his gaze to the other shadowhunters who had drawn their weapons. Even Isabelle had moved towards Clary, ready to protect her if needed. Magnus took a step back and opened a portal, without another word he stepped through it and disappeared.

Isabelle, Clary, Simon, and Alec all remained in shock for the next few moments. None of them had ever seen Magnus truly show his powers, he usually reserved them for showing off. Alec wanted nothing more than to follow after him, to be anywhere but in the institute, but duty came before Magnus. It always would.

“That was tense,” Simon supplied after a few minutes of stunned silence.

“I’ve never seen Magnus angry,” Isabelle replied with a forced chuckle.

“Never be late for dinner, Alec,” Simon said with a smile at Alec. It took every single cell in Alec’s body to stop him from smacking the stupid doe eyed look off his face.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked with his teeth gnashing together. Isabelle looked at him before nodding solemnly. _Good_ , Alec thought. At least Isabelle was aware of the repercussions of their actions. “Not only did you two,” he said pointing to Clary and Simon. “just piss off the only person that can wake your mother with that damn book but you also shattered the alliance, broke the accords, and now Raphael has placed a kill order on shadowhunters.”

“What?!” Izzy shouted. The other shadowhunters again turned their attention to the group. Alec was really starting to get annoyed with their consistent watchful eye of him, as if he was going to become half-demon just because he kissed one.

“Raphael put a kill order on any shadowhunter that enters East Harlem,” Alec replied. Clary’s mouth fell open in shock. Simon simply looked like a lost puppy and Alec felt the need to put him and Clary on leashes before they got them all killed.

“Can he do that?” Clary asked.

“Now that the accords are broken, he can do anything,” Isabelle answered. She sat down heavily next to Clary. Clary’s eyes had welled up with tears again and she just kept shaking her head over and over.

“What?” Alec asked with exasperation in his voice. “Why do you keep shaking your head no?”

“This can’t have all been for nothing,” she said, tears now steadily falling onto the table. “We lost Jace and I broke the alliance and the accords, and I didn’t even get the damn book.” She slammed her fists on the table and accidentally flipped her chair onto the floor as she stood up. She ran out of the room with Isabelle a few steps behind her.

Alec pressed his palms to his eyes. He thought Clary had the Book of the White, she had offered it to Valentine in exchange for Jace. Now it made sense why she would have just willingly given away the one thing that would wake up Jocelyn, it had been worthless anyway. There was no telling how big of an upset this would cause when he informed the clave. He would take the blame. Clary was a new shadowhunter and he had promised Jace to look after her and to keep her safe. Alec wasn’t with her at the hotel, he could have saved those lives, or maybe even seduced Raphael better than Simon and gotten him to just agree. Alec snorted to himself at the thought and jumped when Simon asked, “what’s so funny?”

“I forgot you were here,” he replied.

“You’re so charming,” Simon said with an eye roll.

“Have you called him?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb, vampire. I’m not in the mood.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I think now would be the time.”

Simon put his hands over his face and just shook his head no. Alec sighed before saying “I know what it’s like to be confused but trust me, just talking to the person that’s fucking up your life will help.”

Simon looked up at him with a smile. “Did we just bond?”

“No.”

“I think we did.”

Alec sighed and it felt like his soul had actually left his body. “If you’re going to call him, call him. If you’re not, you can sleep in my room tonight since you’re now homeless again,” he said as he stood up from the table and slid his jacket over his shoulders.

“Just because I like Raphael does not mean I want to sleep with you,” Simon replied. Alec looked down at him with an incredulous look on his face. “No offense, but you’re not my type. I would have to climb a tree just to kiss you.”

“Will you shut the fuck up? I’m going to Magnus’s, I wasn’t hitting on you,” Alec was astonished that he hadn’t buried the vampire again himself.

“We really are becoming friends,” Simon called after him as Alec walked down the hallway out of the institute. Alec looked back over his shoulder to reply sarcastically but Simon was already looking at his phone.

“I’ll never understand these people,” he said under his breath before striding out of the church and into the night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, it's me. i was wondering if you're liking the story so far?
> 
>  
> 
> and if everyone would get annoyed if i brought in clizzy? saphael and clizzy are my non-cannon ships that i would take a bullet for. let me know if you think that would just be too outrageous or not.
> 
> a kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses!!!
> 
> PS I'm alecalrightwood on tumblr if you want to talk to me (pls talk to me)


	5. Maybe I'm Just Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whose jacket is that?” Raphael asked. His eyebrows knitted together as he eyed the cotton hanging loosely off of Simon. Alec’s shoulders were much broader than his and Simon hated it. “Is it one of the Nephilum’s? It smells like angel blood.”  
> “Oh yeah, it’s Alec’s,” Simon replied as he pulled it over his chest.  
> “It’s ugly.”  
> “Not everyone can dress like you, Raph.”  
> “Or even half as well, apparently,” he said with his nose crinkled.  
> “Do you want me to take it off?” Simon asked, smiling despite himself.  
> “I want you to take it to the dump,” Raphael responded.

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Five

Maybe I’m Just Selfish

            Simon had his thumb hovering over Raphael’s name in his phone. All he had to do was press down but he couldn’t seem to find the courage. He sat on Alec’s bed with his mind racing. He wanted to talk to Raphael, he wanted to fix what happened, he wanted to fix the alliance and the accords, but what he wanted most of all was to go back to the Hotel. He felt like he belonged there. Raphael made him feel safe. He knew he annoyed Raphael almost 100% of the time but Raphael always had the ghost of a smile on his face when Simon rambled and he would frown when Simon left the room. But Simon didn’t want to think about the kiss. Or the things Raphael called him, or the way he sighed into the kiss, or how it made Simon feel. The more he thought about how much he didn’t want to think about the kiss, the more he thought about it. It was driving him insane and he didn’t know what to do. He had never felt anything for anyone except Clary, and with her it wasn’t so much a feeling, but a part of him. He couldn’t even separate himself from Clary. Their histories overlapped, all his memories were wrapped up in her, and all his dreams ran adjacent to hers. They had planned their futures together and when the world fell apart in front of them, they adapted together. She was his past, his present, and his future. The idea of being with Raphael wasn’t in the plan. He was supposed to marry Clary and live out their lives in the city making art and being happy.

            Simon had almost lost hope for him and Clary when Jace came into the picture. But he was her brother and they couldn’t be together. Simon couldn’t help but think that must have been fate stepping in. He was in love with her. Of all the things that changed in his life, that stayed the same. Like a broken bone that still hurts when it rains, she was something he carried, something that ached inside of him. Walking away from her now felt like walking away of the last piece of his human self.

            He tossed his phone onto Alec’s pillows and quickly walked out of the room. He didn’t slow down until he reached Clary’s door. He knocked loudly and rocked back and forth on his feet while he waited. She opened the door with fresh tears still on her cheeks. Her chin wobbled and Simon had his arms wrapped around her before she could even sniffle. They stumbled backwards into her bedroom and Simon kicked the door closed.

            “I’m so sorry, Simon,” she gasped against his chest.

            “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Simon lied to her without thought. It was instinctual to protect her, even from her own self-blame when it was rightfully placed.

            She pushed herself away from him and shouted, “Stop trying to protect me! I murdered three people today, Simon! I killed them without even thinking about their lives for a moment!”

            Simon took a sharp breath in. He had purposely not thought about what Clary had done. He refused to see her for what she had become. She needed to remain his Clary. The artist that would draw for hours with sunlight dancing through her hair, the girl that sat front row at every one of his gigs, his best friend that he had carried across the Brooklyn Bridge when she lost her shoe.

            “I really am Valentine’s daughter,” she muttered as she sat on the bed. Simon knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.

            “We can fix this, Clary,” he promised as he kissed her knuckles.

            “We can’t bring people back from the dead,” she answered as fresh tears formed in her eyes. “Simon, I set off a bomb in your home! I could have killed you too! My best friend!”

            “Hey, look at me,” Simon pressed her palm to his cheek. “I’m fine! I’m alive! Well alive isn’t exactly the right word, but I’m okay.”

            She nodded slowly and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m so tired,” she mumbled. “Will you stay with me?”

            “Of course,” he responded. They had done this a million times before. They’d crawl under the covers and tell each other it was going to be okay until they fell asleep. Crawling into the strange bed with scratchy sheets with Clary felt like coming home. But the house was dusty and didn’t seem to fit as well as it used to.

            “I think there’s something wrong with me,” she said quietly after a few minutes after the light was turned off.

            “What do you mean?” Simon asked as he rolled over to look at her.

            “Jace is my brother,” was all she said. Simon waited for her to continue but she didn’t.

            “I once kissed my cousin in a closet,” he replied. He was hoping she’d laugh but she just rolled over so her back was facing him.

            “But you didn’t want to keep kissing them,” she said quietly after a few minutes. Simon grimaced in the dark. He never admitted that hearing her talk about Jace felt like a knife being plunged between his ribs, but it really did. “And you didn’t feel like every single cell in your body was meant to collide with theirs. You didn’t kill people so you could find a way to wake up your mother with the stupid fucking hope that she’ll say it’s not true.”

            “You killed them…” Simon started but trailed off as he tried to understand. “You want to wake Jocelyn up so she’ll tell you that Valentine is lying?”

            “Don’t say it like that,” she snapped back and sat up. She looked over at him in the dark. “I didn’t think to myself ‘let’s kill some vamps for lols’. I just felt like I had to do whatever it took.”

            Simon sat up too and took a shaky breath. “You’re right, I didn’t do any of that after kissing Jeremy.”

            “Will you stop making jokes about this?”

            “I don’t know how else to respond!”

            “Tell me there’s something wrong with me,” she pleaded. “Tell me I’m sick, tell me I’m disgusting. Scream at me, claw out my heart, do something Simon!”

            “I’m not going to hurt you.”

            “Valentine must have done something to me. How else could I be in love with my own brother?”

            Simon stopped breathing.

            “You’re…you’re what?”

            “I’m in love with him.”

            “Clary-“

            “It’s sick!” she shouted and her breathing sped up. “I’m- I’m gonna be sick.”

            She ran into the bathroom and Simon tried to calm his breathing. He felt like something was gnawing on his ribcage and burrowing into his chest in a mad attempt to rip apart his heart. She fell in love with someone else when he had been right there, the entire time. He had never seen anyone besides her for years, except for a momentary distraction in the form of Raphael. He had always known it was her. She was his and he was hers.

            At the sounds of her sobs from the bathroom, he got up to comfort her. No matter how hollow he felt, caring for Clary was a part of who he was as a person. He was Jewish, he was a vampire, and he was Clary’s best friend. Those three things were the only certainties in his life. He sat on the floor next to her and rubbed her back as she sobbed onto the tile.

            “I don’t think you’re disgusting,” Simon said as he tried to smile at her. “If that helps at all.”

            “The only thing that would be worse is if I was in love with you,” she sobbed onto the tile. “You’re more my brother than him. We grew up together. Jace and I have DNA but blood isn’t family!” She sat up and grabbed Simon’s hands, her bloodshot eyes staring into his with desperation. “This right here,” as she pointed to their chests. “This is family. And no one, not Camille, not the clave, not Valentine, will ever take this away from us.”

            Simon nodded and clenched his jaw. She crawled into his lap and hugged him. She muttered “my simon” over and over, more to herself than to him. Simon stared at the wall and rocked her until she began to fall asleep. He carried her to the bed, tucked her in, and then quietly left the room. He sped to Alec’s room and immediately picked up his phone. The phone was dialing before he even realized he wanted to see Raphael.

            “Are you hurt?” Raphael asked as a way of greeting.

            “What? No.”

            “Then why the fuck are you calling me?”

            “I need to see you, Raphael.”

            “No,” Raphael answered, his voice cold.

            “Please,” Simon pleaded.

            After a few moments of silence, Raphael responded “how do I know it won’t be a trap set by your shadowhunter friends? The next best move would be to kill me if they want to take down the clan.”

            “They don’t want you dead. You really think I would do that?” Simon asked as he ran his hands through his hair. He felt desperate to see Raphael, like he was a fix he desperately needed.

            “I have no idea what you would and wouldn’t do anymore, fledgling,” Raphael responded, his voice dropping a degree colder.

            “Please, Raph,” Simon pleaded again. He sounded pathetic but he didn’t want to feel anymore. He’d do anything not to feel the aftermath of what Clary just said to him.

            “Fine, but in Soho. I can’t be seen with you,” Raphael answered before hanging up. Simon pulled one of Alec’s jackets on before racing out of the institute to Soho.

            Simon was the first one to arrive in front of the bookstore-café Raphael had mentioned a few times as one of his favorite places to go when he just needed to think. Simon peered in the windows while he waited. It was filled with books and there was a spiral staircase in the back corner. Simon imagined Raphael climbing it with a new book open in his hands, trying to read as much as could while walking.

            “I’m surprised you remember the name of this place,” Raphael said suddenly from behind him. Simon nearly fell over from the shock.

            “I wish you wouldn’t do that to me,” he said with his hand over his chest.

            “Whose jacket is that?” Raphael asked. His eyebrows knitted together as he eyed the cotton hanging loosely off of Simon. Alec’s shoulders were much broader than his and Simon hated it. “Is it one of the Nephilum’s? It smells like angel blood.”

            “Oh yeah, it’s Alec’s,” Simon replied as he pulled it over his chest.

            “It’s ugly.”

            “Not everyone can dress like you, Raph.”

            “Or even half as well, apparently,” he said with his nose crinkled.

            “Do you want me to take it off?” Simon asked, smiling despite himself.

            “I want you to take it to the dump,” Raphael responded. His eyes drifted to Simon’s lips before he looked away. Simon felt butterflies rise in his stomach just from the glance.

            “I missed you,” he said simply. He hadn’t even realized how much until he saw Raphael standing in front of him, as pompous as ever.

            “It’s been 26 hours,” Raphael answered still looking away.

            “Have you been counting?”

            “Absolutely not. You start to feel the hours more when you’ve lived as long as I have.”

            Simon just snorted in response. Raphael looked at him from the corner of his eye. Simon reached out and poked his side gently. “Should I call you grandpa?”

            “Alright, I’m leaving,” Raphael replied as he began to walk away at human speed.

            “No, you can’t. I heard this place offers a senior citizen discount,” Simon teased as he walked after Raphael. They walked together for a few minutes and without thinking, Simon stepped closer so his arm brushed against Raphael’s and their hands touched. Raphael immediately stopped walking and turned to look at him.

            “Why did you want to see me?” Raphael asked. He looked terrified and Simon had no idea why. It was just him, he wasn’t a threat to anyone. He answered by taking a step forward and fixing Raphael’s jacket. Raphael’s eyes were wide and watching every move Simon made. Simon leaned forward and kissed Raphael, just to make Raphael stop staring at him like he had a knife. Raphael kissed him back and Simon took another step forward and pushed his fingers into Raphael’s hair. Raphael’s arms wrapped around his waist timidly. Simon had never seen Raphael gentle or careful in his actions, it made Simon smile. “What are you smiling about?” Raphael asked against his lips.

            “I knew you’d make me feel better,” Simon responded, kissing Raphael between each word. “I didn’t want to think anymore and doing this with you makes me not think straight.”

            Raphael took a step away from him and Simon immediately missed his touch. He reached out again to Raphael but Raphael pushed his hands away. “Why didn’t you want to think?” he asked. Simon sighed in response and tried to kiss him again. But when Raphael refused again, Simon looked at his hands.

            “Clary just said a lot of shit,” he said quietly.

            “Like what?” Raphael asked, his voice impossibly soft.

            “She’s in love with Jace,” he answered in a flat voice.

            “Oh,” Raphael responded and his voice was thick, like there was something stuck in his throat.

            “What’s wrong?” he asked but Raphael just shook his head and looked down. Simon could have sworn he saw a tear drop to the ground. “Why are you upset, Raph?”

            “Don’t call me that,” Raphael responded and his entire body flinched when Simon put his hand on his arm. Simon didn’t know what to do or what to think or why Raphael was responding like this.

            “I don’t understand what just happened.”

            Raphael looked up at him, his cheeks slightly wet but his jaw was set and his eyes were like stone, “you don’t get to love me only when you’re hurting. I’m not a candle to burn only on the coldest nights. I’m not your ugly Hanukah socks that you only pull out when there’s nothing left and your feet are cold. I’m not your summer home that’s forgotten completely in the winter.”

            “Raphael-” Simon started but Raphael only shook his head.

            “Don’t come to the hotel,” Raphael said, his voice like gravel. “I had to fight to keep the kill order off of you too but if you come back, it’ll be like you’re asking to be staked. I won’t be able to protect you.”

            “Where am I supposed to go?” Simon asked. He hated how he sounded like a lost kid.

            “The Nephilum seem to like you,” Raphael said weakly. “I hope you don’t learn about the prejudices of the children of the angel the same way I did.”

            “Raphael, wait! I can fix this, we can fix this!”

            “No one can bring anyone back from the dead,” Raphael interrupted. “Magnus and I tried for years.”

            “I’m sorry,” Simon said and it felt so inadequate. Raphael looked at him, his entire face contorted as he tried to smile at Simon. “I wish I could-”

            “Don’t say it,” Raphael interrupted again.

            “I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “Then don’t come to the hotel and make me watch you die,” Raphael answered and then disappeared leaving Simon alone with a chest full of emotions he wished he knew how to express.

            “Hello, my little caramel,” a sultry voice greeted from the shadows. “I heard you need a place to stay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends here's the next chapter. sorry if it's not as good as the rest i'm sad and drunk.
> 
> kay i love you a lot.  
> a kudo equals a hug and a comments equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.
> 
> oh! if you wanna see anything happen, you can ask! i'm literally just writing my dream season two right now so if you wanna see something to, suggest it! if it works with my plan, i'll put it on in there :)


	6. I'm On All Fours (Willingly Damned)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re going to tell us where Valentine is,” Clary growled like an animal. All trace of the soft Clary Jace carried in to the institute was gone.  
> “Or you’re going to kill me?” the demon asked with a cackle.  
> “No,” Clary responded. “I’m going to kill you anyway, but you get to decide how painful it’s going to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning that there's violence in this chapter! I just don't want any of you babes triggered, so tread with caution.

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Six

I'm On All Fours (Willingly Damned)

                        Alec woke the next morning in the most uncomfortable position he had ever been in. His feet were up on Magnus’s coffee table and he was leaned against the arm with his head at a nearly 90 degree angle on the cushions. As he picked his head up, his neck cracked loudly and he groaned like a man seventy years older than he was. Magnus murmured wordlessly in response from his position tucked under Alec’s arm and pressed against his side with his legs thrown over Alec’s. Alec smiled to himself and kissed Magnus’s forehead gently. Magnus scrunched his nose and Alec felt like his heart would explode like a bomb.

            “What time is it?” he grumbled, his voice low and crackly. Magnus’s opened his eyes slowly and turned to look at Alec.

            “It’s quiet time,” he answered and pressed a kiss to Alec’s neck. Alec sighed against the touch.

            “I have to get back to the institute,” Alec replied but Magnus just continued to kiss his neck. Magnus’s hand drifted up his chest before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. “Magnus,” Alec whispered in response.

            Magnus pulled his legs off of Alec’s lap and straddled him instead. Alec’s heart hammered against his ribcage as Magnus pressed kisses light as sunshine against his neck, jaw, and collarbones. Alec’s hands were loosely on Magnus’s hips, completely losing himself in Magnus’s touch. The kisses were soft enough to make Alec’s skin tingle and cause him to hum. Magnus sat back on Alec’s thighs and smiled down at Alec’s face. He was the epitome of blissed out, his eyes closed, a ghost of a smile on his lips, his skin slightly blushing.

            “Good morning,” Magnus whispered before softly kissing Alec. Alec kissed back gently before smiling.

            “Can you be my alarm clock every morning?” he asked against Magnus’s lips.

            “Who are you calling alarm clock? You woke me up, shadowhunter,” Magnus laughed and kissed the tip of Alec’s nose.

            “My neck slowly fracturing woke me up,” Alec answered in an indignant tone.

            “My apologies,” Magnus replied as he bit down softly on Alec’s deflection rune. “No more couch sleepovers.”

            “No more vertical sleepovers,” Alec answered before laying Magnus down on the couch and crawling on top of him. Magnus’s hands slunk up his shirt, the ghost of his touch raising goosebumps on Alec’s skin. Alec kissed him tentatively, not entirely sure how far he wanted to go. Magnus smiled up at him and twisted his fingers through his hair.

            “I love first base,” he said softly. Alec smiled at him and kissed him again. Magnus pulled him lower so their chests brushed. Alec felt his entire face blush at the contact. He pulled his lips from Magnus’s and kissed along his neck. Magnus immediately reacted, his finger beds digging into Alec’s back. Alec’s breathing fell out of rhythm as he bit Magnus’s neck and Magnus whined in response. Alec pressed his tongue against the inflamed skin and Magnus whined louder. Without thinking, Alec sucked Magnus’s skin into his mouth and gently grazed his teeth against it. Magnus’s slipped under Alec’s shirt as he muttered “Alexander,” in a dreamy tone of voice.

            Before Alec could explore Magnus’s sensitive spots more, his phone loudly rang from the floor. Alec sat up on the couch and looked at the screen. “Izzy” it read. Magnus pushed Alec back against the cushions and climbed on top of him again as Alec answered the phone call.

            “You okay?” he asked, his voice higher pitched than usual. Magnus pressed his mouth against Alec’s neck and was surely leaving marks as he bit and grazed his teeth against the sensitive skin.

            “Simon is missing,” she answered with panic filling her entire voice.

            “Check my room,” Alec responded a little breathlessly.

            “Excuse me?” both Magnus and Izzy asked.

            “I told him to sleep there because I knew I wouldn’t be there,” Alec responded rolling his eyes at Magnus. Magnus smiled at him before nipping at harshly on Alec’s collarbones. “Shit,” Alec moaned.

            “What’s wrong with you?” Isabelle asked. “Why are you moaning like tha- OH. You didn’t sleep here, oh!”

            “I’ll be there soon, Izzy,” Alec replied blushing again. Magnus licked up his neck and Alec sighed.

            “You don’t have to come too fast,” Izzy answered. Alec could hear her smirk through the phone. He hung up and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around Magnus but Magnus wiggled away.

            “Nope, nope, nope, time for work,” Magnus said as he sashayed into his bedroom. Alec followed after him like a puppy. “There’s a baby vampire lost somewhere and you gotta find him,” he said as he pulled his shirt off. Alec tripped over the ornate rug on the floor as he stared.

            “He’s probably just sightseeing,” he replied crossing the room to Magnus.

            “In a city he grew up in?” Magnus asked with a smirk. “Or he could have been hungry.”

            “Oh shit, he might be hungry,” Alec said as he snapped back into reality. “This is too be continued,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran into the living room and pulled on his boots.

            “Of course, Alexander,” Magnus replied with a laugh.

            Alec arrived back in the Institute within ten minutes and he silently thanked Magnus for moving the lair within ten blocks from the Institute. He went straight to his bedroom to change out of the clothes from the day before. The perfectly made bed put him on edge. He knew there was no way Simon would or even could have done that which meant he hadn’t slept there at all the night before. As he opened his closet, he realized his favorite navy hoodie was missing. He stared into the closet confused. No one had ever taken his clothes. Isabelle was much too picky, Jace hated anything that made his shoulders look slimmer than Alec’s, and Clary knew he’d kill her if she tried. So that only left Simon. Alec’s eyebrows knitted together at the strange act of kinship from Simon but he wasn’t angry. It felt like such a Simon thing to do and Simon things were becoming less and less annoying.

            “First thanking Clary, now worrying about Simon,” he muttered to himself. “What next? Adopting a cat?”

            A soft knock came from the door and as he pulled it open Lydia was standing there. Her hair was pulled into her signature braid but a large bruise covered most of her face.

            “Hey,” she greeted softly.

            “Hey,” he responded before allowing her to entire the room. “Are you feeling better?”

            “I wouldn’t say better,” she replied in a small voice before she straightened her shoulders. “I would say more determined.”

            Alec smiled at her, he never loved her but he understood and related to Lydia in a way that he hadn’t related to anyone before. Their priority would always be duty, their own happiness second. His walking away from her at the altar wasn’t him choosing happiness, but honesty for the first time in his life. The happiness he found along the way was just a bonus.

            “I’m glad you’re back on your feet,” he responded with a genuine smile. “The vampires declared war, which you probably already know.”

            “Yeah, I heard,” she answered quickly. “But I came because we heard of a swarm of demons on the dock where we last know Jace was. I was hoping you, Isabelle, Clary, and I could go and take care of it.”

            “Are you joining our team then?” Alec asked as he led her out of the room.

“I’m no longer acting head of the institute and I feel like some footwork might be the first step to restoring my name,” she replied smoothly keeping pace with him and pulling on her gloves.

            “I’m sorry, by the way,” he said. He stopped walking and turned to her. “All of that happened because of me and my sister, the trial, the…the wedding. Everything.”

            “I made the choices I made because I knew they were the right choices, Alec,” she put her hand on Alec’s forearm lightly. “I don’t hold any of it against you, not the trial, especially not the wedding. I’m glad you’re happy with Magnus. You deserve it so much.”

            She began walking to the weapons room again before turning back to him, “this mission will be an interesting experiment on wither or not hickeys affect runes.” She wiggled her eyebrows as Alec slapped his hand over his neck. He blushed deeply and then followed after her.

            Isabelle and Clary were already there, armed to the teeth. Clary smiled at him but when her eyes found the hickey she giggled. Alec blushed again.

            “¿Qué paso?” Isabelle asked as she looked from Clary to Alec. Clary motioned to his neck with another smirk, Izzy turned to look and her jaw fell open. “Look at you, big brother! I thought I’d never live to see the day.”

            “Shut up,” he responded still blushing widely. He didn’t mind being teased, especially not when it was from three people that only wanted him to be happy. Plus he found himself wanting everyone to know that he was happy and dating the High Warlock of Brooklyn, who also happened to be one of the sexiest men in Manhattan.

            Lydia spread a blueprint across the table, “our intel says they’re in this warehouse. Alec, I want you to be up top covering us. Clary, I want you to take the front door, use an explosion rune and make a spectacular entrance. That’ll make them swarm towards the back door, Izzy, you and I will be there. Then Clary you’ll work your way towards us and Alec, you’ll pick off as many as you can.”

            “Sounds good to me,” Alec said with a bemused smile. It was almost the exact plan he would have made, except Jace would have made the grand entrance. He had a flair for the dramatics. His parabatai rune ached at the thought.

            “Have the clave approved this mission?” Clary asked in a timid voice. She was obviously not in the mood to receive any more sanctions from the clave.

            “I got it approved before I even brought it to you guys,” Lydia answered with a smile. “I’ve learned my lesson about how trigger happy you lot are.”

            “It isn’t being trigger happy,” Isabelle replied with a smirk as she looped her arm through Lydia’s and led the way out of the institute. “It’s more being stir crazy.”

            “Either way, we’re going to have to play it cool if we want to get Jace back without the clave executing him for treason,” Lydia responded, her voice dark.

            “He’s not committing treason,” Clary said in a stern voice as they hit the street outside the institute.

            “I’m sorry, Clary,” Lydia responded softly. “But it is. I know that it isn’t his fault, trust me, I do. But the clave doesn’t take parental abuse or even intention into account when they put someone on trial. We saw that with Isabelle.”

            Isabelle crossed her arms across her chest at the reminder.

            “This time, we’ll follow the rules,” Alec added. “We have to keep our noses clean, that’ll help a lot when we get Jace back.”

            “Fine,” Clary agreed, her anger had quickly twisted into sadness. Alec knew what she felt. Jace’s absence was a physical ache in his body, like one of his lungs had flattened and he was constantly wheezing trying to just stand straight. He knew Clary felt the same, he could tell even in the way she walked. It was as if her shoulders were heavier.

 

            It took them forty-five minutes to reach the warehouse. Alec nodded to them before climbing up the fire escape to the second floor. He easily slipped through the open window and walked silently along the scaffolding. He positioned an arrow in his bow and waited for Clary’s explosion. It was only thirty seconds before the front door blasted open and the demons split into two groups, one group attacking Clary, the other retreating to the back door. He shot arrows as quickly as he could, alternating between the groups. It wasn’t until Clary screamed in pain that he focused all of his attention on the demons swarming her. She was killing them swiftly but every time one fell, another filled its place. Alec brought one down after another, shooting arrow after arrow before he ran out of arrows. He quickly jumped down from the scaffolding and took out his seraph blade. He sliced through the demons, trying to find Clary in the swarm but all he could see was the orange of her hair.

            Soon the demons had all fallen except one that Clary was fighting. She looked at Alec once before slicing into the demon’s leg. He fell to his knees and Clary pressed her seraph blade to his throat.

            “You’re going to tell us where Valentine is,” Clary growled like an animal. All trace of the soft Clary Jace carried in to the institute was gone.

            “Or you’re going to kill me?” the demon asked with a cackle.

            “No,” Clary responded. “I’m going to kill you anyway, but you get to decide how painful it’s going to be.”

            She stabbed a knife into his bicep and the demon screeched. Clary’s face was like stone as she watched him squirm. She pulled out the blade slowly.

            “Now, back to our conversation,” she asked and with a sickening smile she dragged the blade across the demon’s lips. “Where is Valentine?”

            The demon laughed again before saying, “You’re even more like him than your brother. It took him a few days to let himself become who he was raised to be, but now,” the demon shivered. “I’m more frightened of him that I’ll ever be of you. He kills for fun now, you still kill for love. Wasn’t it love that led you to murder those vampires?”

            Clary stabbed the knife into his other bicep and dragged the blade down. The demon screamed and his smile grew.

            “You know, Clarissa, your father is so proud of you.”

            Clary slit his throat and threw his body onto the ground. Alec stood just feet away from her, astonishment at what he just witnessed completely overwhelming him. Clary fell to her knees still clutching both of the blades and screamed. Alec dropped his blade and wrapped his arm around Clary. She slammed her fists onto the concrete floor and screamed again.

            “CLARY,” Isabelle screamed as she ran towards them with Lydia right behind her. Isabelle dropped to her knees in front of Clary and cupped Clary’s face. “Me habla ahora, Clary,” she demanded but Clary only sobbed. “Dime, Alec, where is she hurt?”

            “The demon said that Jace gave into Valentine,” Alec answered quietly. “He said that Clary is just like Valentine and that’s why the thing at the hotel happened.”

            “Clary,” Lydia said softly as she put her hand timidly on Clary’s shoulder. Clary wiped her tears stiffly and climbed back to her feet.

            “Let’s go,” was all she said. She sheathed her blades and led the way out of the warehouse and back to the institute, the others trotting behind her with their steles out as they healed themselves. Clary had blood dripping down her left arm, leaving a trail like Hansel and Gretel along the sidewalk. She either didn’t feel it or was letting the wound ache as punishment. Either way, Alec didn’t know how to handle it. The only thing that would help Clary was the only thing that would make Alec stop aching too: finding Jace. But he guessed Simon could maybe make it a bit better for her, he was her best friend after all.

            Alec fell a few steps behind Izzy and Lydia as he pulled out his phone. He scrolled down to Simon’s name and hoped that he would pick up. He pressed the phone to his ear as it rang.

            “Hello,” a slightly familiar female voice drawled.

            “I’m looking for Simon?” he asked. If Simon had disappeared to go get laid, Alec was going to be pissed. “Can I talk to him please?”

            “I’m sorry my little caramel is tied up at the moment,” she responded. Alec stopped walking.

            “Who is this?” he asked as he tried not to panic.

            “Forgotten me already, little angel?”

            “Camille,” Alec said. Isabelle and Lydia stopped walking at the sound of her name.

            “There you go,” Camille responded. Alec could hear the smirk on her lips.

            “Where have you taken Simon?” Alec asked, his voice like stone. He was thankful for his mind shifting from panic to angry so quickly.

            “That’s a secret, but if you tell me a secret, I’ll tell you mine.”

            “My underwear is black,” he said dryly. “There’s your secret, now tell me yours.”

            Camille laughed in response and the sound only pissed Alec off more. “Not that kind of secret, I want an address.”

            “No,” he answered.

            “Ah, so you’ve already figured out the address I want. What a smart little shadowhunter, I see what Magnus sees in you.”

            “I’m not telling you where he moved the lair,” Alec responded, not taking her bait.

            “Don’t worry, my little angel,” she laughed. “I don’t want to sleep with your boyfriend, I just need to talk to him.”

            “Then call him, his number is the same.”

            “Are you refusing to tell me because he hasn’t even told you?”

            “Bye Camille,” he responded and then hung up.

            “What did she want?” Lydia asked.

            “She’ll tell us where she has Simon if I tell her where Magnus is hiding,” Alec answered. He looked up and could only see Clary’s flaming air more than half a block ahead of them. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and the three of them ran to catch up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! Sorry this took so long but good news, I have up to chapter twelve planned and it's going to get W I L D.  
> Also, I brought my sweet baby Lydia in because I missed her. Hope you guys love her as much as I do! 
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses!!!


	7. This Bloodlust's A Clusterfuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wait,” he said as he walked to Izzy, his eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”  
> “Easy,” she replied in a smooth voice. “I’m going to stake the bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence Trigger Warning

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Seven

This Bloodlust’s A Clusterfuck

            Isabelle, Alec, and Lydia followed after Clary into the institute. She nearly decapitated another shadowhunter as she threw her unsheathed seraph blade into the weapons room. Alec stopped to help Raj up and pick up the blade but Isabelle and Lydia continued after Clary. She tried to slam her bedroom door behind her but Isabelle blocked it with her boot.

            “I’m not in the mood, Izzy,” Clary yelled as Isabelle and Lydia entered.

            “I get you’re upset,” Isabelle replied, reaching out without thought to Clary. “But something else has happened.”

            “What?” she yelled back, Isabelle flinched from the tone of her voice. Isabelle knew Clary was hurting, she knew she had a temper but in the months that Isabelle had known her, that rage had never been turned against her. Isabelle knew Clary was a force, there was more strength in her than they had met. Isabelle could feel it when her fingertips would brush against Clary’s skin. She could taste it in the air when Clary raged against demons, brick walls, and anything standing in her way. The scariest part was that Isabelle couldn’t figure out if she was attracted to how much more Clary was or if she was just attracted to Clary.

            “Alec tried to call Simon again,” Lydia answered. “Someone else answered.”

            “What do you mean someone else answered?” Clary asked her voice still hard and she was obviously trying to control her anger and anguish. Alec slipped into the room and Izzy released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

            “Camille answered,” Alec replied. He stood next to Isabelle and Isabelle took another step closer to him. She knew she didn’t need protection, but her brother made her feel safe and when the entire world was upside down she clung onto him like the last candle in a blackout.

            “Just spit it out,” Clary yelled. “I’m not going to play twenty questions anymore!”

            “She won’t tell us where he is unless we tell him where Magnus moved his lair,” Lydia answered as she took a step towards Clary. Isabelle wanted to pull her back. Clary in distress always reacted in one of two ways, either explosion or implosion. She’d either scream, fight, throw things, and hurdle insults like knives or she crumpled in on herself, a quiet collapse where the only sounds were her heart breaking and tiny breaths as her lungs hammered against her ribs. Both hurt to witness, like a star collapsing. Isabelle had seen it and she had witnessed Clary recover every time, she always ended up back on her feet. But Isabelle couldn’t help but feel she had been damaged by the shrapnel a few times.

            “Okay, then where is he?” Clary asked Alec. “I’ll go get him myself since you three are apparently too busy sitting on your asses.”

            “I didn’t tell her where the lair is,” Alec replied. Isabelle held her breath and looked at the ground, waiting for the screaming to start.

            “I’m sorry I don’t think I heard that right,” she responded.

            “It’s not our place, or the clave’s for that matter, to divulge the location of assets,” Lydia responded, her voice even and logical as if she could turn her heart on and off at will.

            “Our place?” Clary spat at Lydia. “The only reason Simon is in this mess is because of the clave.”

            “Simon is in this mess because you killed three vampires and broke a fugitive out of the Hotel Dumort,” Lydia replied without missing a beat. Isabelle’s eyes were wide as she watched Clary glare at Lydia like a lion watches its prey.

            “We’ll find him another way,” Isabelle supplied as she took a step forward. “Raphael must know where Camille lives.”

            “Yeah like he’ll talk to us,” Alec replied sarcastically. “He probably couldn’t care less what happens to his fledgling.”

            “Say that again and we’ll see what happens to you,” Clary threatened.

            “Don’t threaten my brother,” Isabelle snarled. She’d gone into battle for Clary, threw herself bodily between Clary and a demon, but she could not and would not allow anyone to even entertain the idea of hurting her brother. “Your letting your emotions cloud your judgment.”

            “Don’t quote Jace at me,” Clary spat as she stepped closer to Isabelle. Isabelle could feel her breath against her skin. Her anger made the air feel electric surrounding them.

            “Jace was quoting Hotch,” Alec said. “Who was quoting his mentor, who was quoting his mentor. Jace didn’t tell you some secret to being a shadowhunter, he taught you what we are all taught.”

            “Yeah?” Clary said, her voice like acid. “Did Jace teach you a lot about yourself too Alec?”

            “I’m not having this conversation,” Alec responded before walking out of the room with Lydia on his heels.

            Clary turned away from Isabelle as soon as the door closed and threw her fist against the wall. Isabelle flinched at the sound of her bones cracking against the bricks. Clary didn’t say anything but the silence felt like rakes against Isabelle’s skin. She couldn’t fix it. She wanted to hold Clary, take the pain right out of her chest, press paint brushes into her hands, and remind Clary of who she used to be before she lost everything.

            “Clary,” she said softly, her voice soft and vulnerable. “Clary, please,” she begged and she didn’t even know what she was asking for. Her heart felt like a stone in her chest and Clary’s pain felt like it was under her skin and all over her body. “Just come here,” she nearly whispered before closing the distance between them.

            She wrapped her hands around Clary’s waist and hugged her from behind. Clary’s shoulders shook against Isabelle with silent sobs and Isabelle kissed her shoulder blades. Clary slowly turned around and Isabelle’s heart sped up. Her eyes dropping from Clary’s eyes, to her lips, to her fingers playing with her ring. Isabelle looked back at Clary’s face and every single part of her wanted to close the distance, to comfort Clary in the way that she knew best. But before she could do anything, Clary whispered, “Please leave.”

            Isabelle nodded immediately and turned away from her. She shut the door quietly behind her and tried to stop her hands from shaking as she walked back to the training room. When she arrived Lydia was sitting on the floor absentmindedly. Isabelle sat next to her and they remained in silence, both lost in their thoughts.

            “Is she okay?” Alec asked and Isabelle jumped at the sound of his voice. He walked up the steps quickly and sat in front of them so they formed a triangle, the way he always did with Jace and her. “Whoa sorry, I thought you saw me.”

            “It’s okay,” she responded quietly as she looked at her hands. They were still shaking. Lydia gently put her hand in Isabelle’s and squeezed.

            “It’s hard for you to see her like that,” Lydia said quietly. Isabelle knew it wasn’t a question but she found herself nodding anyway. “She’ll be okay.”

            “I just wish I could fix it,” Isabelle whispered and she hated herself for the wobble in her voice. She didn’t do this, she didn’t get attached, she didn’t hope for someone to look at her like she meant something. She commanded respect, she got attention when she wanted, she did not wait, she did not pine, and she didn’t follow her heart. She had watched Alec’s heart pull him through the mud. Alec and his damn heart had nearly gotten him killed too many times. Jace hadn’t saved his life numerous times because he was a better shadowhunter than Alec. Alec couldn’t defend himself when all he did was protect Jace. Isabelle had sworn off love when she watched Alec shatter over and over through the years. Sure, he had Magnus now, but how long until that fell apart? If she lost her brother because his damn heart was an uncontrollable beast always ravenous, she’d never forgive Alec. You don’t die for love, she had told herself over and over. You die for what’s right.

            “Hey,” Lydia said as she squeezed her hand. Isabelle turned to her and Lydia brushed a tear off her cheek. Isabelle took a breath and hated the way her ribs shook inside her chest. She pressed her face into her hands as she tried to calm down.

            “Maybe I should just ask Magnus,” Alec said quietly.

            “No,” Isabelle answered firmly. “Simon wouldn’t want that. He cares too much about Magnus to do that to him, not again.”

            “I don’t want to make decisions for Magnus,” Alec replied and Isabelle loved him for caring so much, no matter how stupid it was.

            “It’s against the law,” Lydia said and Isabelle was surprised as Lydia slid closer to her. “The clave doesn’t negotiate in hostage situations, the captor is seen as an enemy of the clave and a kill order is placed. Honesty, it’s one of the coldest laws we have because it sacrifices the hostage but it is firm.”

            Isabelle simply nodded. She had no idea if Lydia was just spewing out lies because she knew it was the right thing or if it was the law, but she was thankful anyway for Lydia on her side.

            “We have to find a way to get Simon back though,” Alec said. Isabelle looked at him, a little confused as to why Alec was so invested. “Apparently we bonded,” he replied with a shrug before getting up and pulling her and Lydia to their feet.

            “Did Simon leave anything behind?” Lydia asked.

            “I don’t know, why?” Isabelle responded turning to Lydia.

            “We can ask Magnus to track it, we don’t have to tell him we know that Camille has him,” Lydia responded and she looked quickly to Alec. “It wouldn’t be lying.”

            “He would know in a minute,” Alec responded.

            “Not if you don’t come,” Isabelle responded. “You can’t lie, I can.”

            She smirked at Lydia before grabbing her hand and pulling her to her room. Lydia stood awkwardly staring at all of Isabelle’s feather boas while Isabelle dug under the bed.

            “I like this one,” Lydia said as she pulled a blue one around her neck. Isabelle looked up at her and sat back on her knees. The blue brought out the blue in Lydia’s eyes and she was giggling as she sashayed with it.

            “You look good,” she answered. Lydia smiled at her before blushing. Isabelle knocked her head on her bed stand when she tried to continue looking under the bed.

            “What are you looking for?” Lydia asked suddenly on her knees next to Isabelle. Isabelle hit her head again as she sat up.

            “Simon gave me a book,” she answered as she rubbed the back of her head. “Or not a book, a comic book. Or okay a graphic novel.”

            Lydia smiled at her again before sticking her head under the bed to look too. She popped back up after a minute with the comic book. She dropped it into Isabelle’s hands and said “bingo.”

 

            Isabelle and Lydia knocked on Magnus’s door twenty minutes later. He opened it with a flourish and waved them into the apartment.

            “Alexander was a bit cryptic on the phone,” he said as he followed them into the living room. “What exactly can I do for you?”

            “We can’t find Simon and we were wondering if you could track him using this,” Izzy answered as she handed him the comic book.

            “Please,” Lydia added with a smile. Magnus smiled at the pair of them and raised his eyebrow at Isabelle like he knew something. Isabelle felt a swooping feeling in her stomach as she glanced at Lydia before looking at the ground unable to swallow her smile. She didn’t know what the hell she was feeling but she couldn’t stop herself.

            “I’d be happy to,” he replied as he snatched the comic book from Izzy. He took a deep breath before closing his eyes. Lydia watched him with her head tilted to the side in wonder. She was smiling at him too and Isabelle was smiling at her. “Oh no,” Magnus said after a few seconds.

            “What?” Lydia and Isabelle asked at the same time.

            “I know where he is,” Magnus answered.

            “Did you see an address?” Lydia asked but Isabelle knew what he meant.

            “He’s in one of Camille’s hidden apartments,” Magnus answered as he sat down. “Why would he be with her?”

            “We think she took him,” Lydia answered as she sat on the coffee table across from him. “You just confirmed our suspicions. Do you know where this apartment is?”

            “It’s in the Upper West Side. I can get you the address, but wait,” he said as he walked to Izzy, his eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”

            “Easy,” she replied in a smooth voice. “I’m going to stake the bitch.”

            “Be careful,” he warned as Lydia and Isabelle walked towards the front door.

            “Don’t worry,” Lydia replied with her hand squeezing Magnus’s elbow.

            “We’re bringing the cavalry,” Isabelle added as she pressed Alec’s contact name in her phone. “Hey big brother, tell Clary we know where Camille is.”

            Isabelle quickly hugged Magnus and felt him slightly stiffen in shock before hugging her back. She grabbed Lydia’s wrist and pulled her out of the apartment.

 

            It had only been a little over an hour when they arrived breathless in front of Camille’s apartment building. Their runes got them past the mundane doorman and the mundanes in the lobby but getting into Camille’s apartment was a different problem. Nothing they had tried had worked so far.

            “Just let me blow it to hell,” Clary said from where she was leaning against the wall, clearly frustrated.

            “We. Are. In. An. Apartment. Building.” Alec said, his voice stiff as he tried to pick the lock of 1202 again. “Think of the mundanes. They’d be terrified.”

            “And we could use the commotion to get out of the building without any potential downworlders noticing,” Clary replied. She had already suggested it three times but Alec was not budging. Isabelle and Lydia stood a few steps away from the pair. Isabelle fiddled with her whip while Lydia stared at the doorway to 1203. Lydia stepped forward and pressed her ear against the door.

            “Lydia,” Isabelle started but Lydia raised a hand to quiet her. She dropped to her knees and began to pick the lock. “Lydia, that’s not Camille’s apartment.”

            “I’m well aware,” was all Lydia responded with. She had the door open within a few minutes. She smiled at Isabelle before stepping into the apartment and shutting the door behind her.

            “What is she doing?” Alec asked as he pressed his ear to the door as he tried to turn the deadlock again.

            “She didn’t say,” Isabelle answered before they heard shouts and one scream from inside Camille’s apartment.

            “What the hell?” Clary asked as she pulled out her steele. “If Luke were here, he would call that probable cause and let me blow the door.” She pushed Alec out of the way but before she could draw the rune, Lydia opened the door from the other side. She had a cut along her cheek but besides that she was beaming.

            “Come on in,” she said with a Magnus-like flourish.

            Alec walked in first with Clary following, both of them with their seraph blades drawn. Isabelle grabbed Lydia’s face gently before pulling out her steele.

            “What were you thinking?” she asked as she traced the iratze rune.

            “I just assumed that Camille probably wouldn’t have paid a warlock to put wards on a twelfth floor balcony walk out,” Lydia answered only slightly flinching at the burn from the steele. “And I was right.”

            “It’s clear,” Alec said simply as he put his blade away.

            “Where’s Simon?” Clary asked as she walked into the next room. Alec followed after her.

            “You didn’t know how many vampires were in here,” Isabelle replied, her voice a little shaky. She still hadn’t taken her hand from Lydia’s cheek. “That was so reckless.”

            “It’s nothing Jace probably hasn’t done a million times before,” Lydia replied with another one of her smiles that planted flowers in Isabelle’s heart.

            “But that’s Jace,” Isabelle responded and Lydia pushed her hand from her face.

            “How do you think I made it as high in the clave as I did?” Lydia asked, her voice suddenly stern. “It wasn’t by making friendship bracelets,” she spat then turned away from Isabelle.

            “IZZY,” Alec yelled from rooms away. Isabelle and Lydia ran as fast as they could and when they reached the room, Lydia gasped.

            Simon was propped against the bed in the room. His clothes were covered in blood and his eyes were unfocused and staring at the wall. Clary was shaking his shoulders and shouting his name but he didn’t respond. Lydia dropped down next to Clary and gently lifted up Simon’s shirt. His abdomen didn’t have any wounds, “the blood isn’t his, it’s probably mundane blood. That’s the only explanation for him being in this state” she said as she looked over her shoulder at Alec. “Did you find a body?” she asked him and he nodded before pointing to the far corner of the room. Isabelle and Lydia both looked. A mundane girl wearing jogging clothes was laying on the floor. Her arms were badly scratched and her leg was bent at an odd angle, like she had been thrown away like trash. Isabelle examined the body with shaky hands trying not to let herself think that Simon had done this. She sighed in relief when she found that her throat had been slit.

            “She wasn’t killed by Simon,” she said simply before standing up. “Her throat was slit, they just let him drain her.” She felt a shiver crawl up her spine at the thought.

            “We need to leave before Camille comes back for him,” Alec commanded as he and Clary pulled Simon to his feet.

            “How are we going to get him out of here?” Lydia asked as they stepped into the elevator. “The mundanes can’t see us but they can see him and he’s covered in blood.”

            Before Isabelle or Alec could come up with a plan, the elevator doors opened. Clary dropped Simon’s arm and strode into the lobby. She looked back at Alec again and he had just begun to scream “NO” at her but she drew the rune and the front desk exploded. Screams filled the entire atrium and Clary’s body slammed into the wall nearest the elevator. Isabelle ran to her as Alec and Lydia carried Simon out of the lobby with the commotion as cover. His bloody body blended in with the destruction Clary wrought.

            “CLARY,” Isabelle screamed as she tried to wake her up. Clary’s eyes opened slowly and she smiled weakly at Isabelle.

            “Is Simon okay?” she asked and Isabelle sobbed into Clary’s hair as she pulled her to her chest. “There were only two people in here when I blew it, Izzy. I checked.”

            “I know,” Isabelle said into her hair, trying to calm down. “You nearly killed yourself though.”

            “But I got Simon out,” she whispered back. She passed out and Isabelle couldn’t wake her. She pulled out her steele and traced the iratze but Clary wasn’t waking up. Isabelle could hear sirens in the distance and in a panic, she called Magnus.

            “Isabelle,” he answered on the second ring.

            “The mundane police are coming and I can’t move her,” she sobbed into the phone.

            “Where?” he asked.

            “The apartment lobby,” she responded with another sob. “She won’t wake up, she won’t wake up.”

            “Come with me,” Magnus said, suddenly beside her. He pulled Isabelle to her feet and together they carried Clary through the portal. They landed in Magnus’s living room. He gently laid Clary on the couch and Isabelle dropped to the floor. “What happened?” he asked as he hovered his hands over her body.

            “W- w- we found Simon and he was cov- he was covered in blood,” she started as she began to rock slightly on the floor. “There was a mundane girl, all of her blood was drained. But her throat was cut first. Camille must have done it and it wasn’t Simon’s fault. He’s just a baby vampire, he can’t control himself yet!”

            “Was Camille there?” Magnus asked now pressing his fingers to Clary’s pulse point.

            “No,” Isabelle answered. “But we couldn’t just walk Simon passed the doorman covered in blood. Clary caused an explosion without talking to us first but the rune was different.”

            “What do you mean different?”

            “She drew it differently. I don’t know if she meant to, but the blast was twice as powerful,” Isabelle started crying again. “She was too close and she was slammed back nearly twenty feet into the wall.”

            “By the angel,” Magnus gasped.

            “I think I heard her crack,” she whispered. Magnus looked at her sadly before he began to stir a potion. “Do you need any ingredients?” she asked from the floor as she wiped her eyes. She couldn’t stand this feeling of helplessness. She was a Lightwood. They don’t fall apart.

            “No, I have everything I need here,” Magnus replied kindly as he flourished his hand over Clary. Yellow sparks rained down and Isabelle would have thought she looked beautiful, like she was surrounded by stars. But all she could hear was the sound of Clary’s bones hitting the wall. “Could you call Alexander though? He’s going to be worried soon.”

            “Okay, yeah, that’s a good idea,” she responded as she stood. She took a deep breath and tried to get her voice to sound even before she dialed his number.

            “Are you okay?” he asked as a way of saying hello.

            “Yeah, I’m with Magnus,” she responded. Magnus waved over his shoulder. “He says hello.”

            “And Clary?”

            “Not good. Simon?”

            “He’s in custody.”

            “What do you mean he’s in custody?” Isabelle asked and Magnus stopped casting the spell. Isabelle put the phone on speaker.

            “Imogen put him under arrest for breaking the accords,” Alec started. “And drinking the mun- that girl. When he comes out of this weird haze, she’s sending him to the Silent Brothers.”

            “Why? He didn’t kill that girl! Camille did!” Isabelle shouted.

            “We don’t know what happened for sure,” Alec replied, his voice tired. “It’s not like there’s any witnesses.”

            “Camille planned this,” Magnus said in a dark voice. “She knew you wouldn’t let the vampires live. She knows shadowhunters better than any downworlder.”

            “But that doesn’t explain taking him to the Silent Brothers,” Isabelle interjected.

            “Raphael declared war on the nephilum,” Magnus said softly before returning to Clary’s side.

            “Exactly,” Alec answered. “Imogen wants to know everything she can about the vampires, and she’s not going to waste time asking questions. She’s going to take them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in case you're a little confused, that was Simon's first time drinking fresh mundane blood and he drank the entirety of her blood. That's why he's basically high.
> 
> But okay, hey! Another chapter done! Sorry it took so long, but graduation is three days away and I'm not prepared. More of all the ships to come, we're just getting started.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.
> 
> feel free to come and yell at me on tumblr --> alecalrightwood
> 
> edit: if you're triggered by anything in my fic, please please please come tell me on tumblr or in the comments here so I can add the tag. I'm very very new to archive of our own and don't fully understand the tagging system or what should and shouldn't be tagged. I just want my petals to be safe and enjoy reading this. Okay bye I love you.


	8. I’m Yours But I Don’t Know If You Can Help It

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Eight

I’m Yours But I Don’t Know If You Can Help It

            Clary couldn’t breathe. It was like she was underwater gasping for air but only swallowing water. She could see Jace, his face muddled by the salt water in her eyes and he kept drifting away quickly, like he was on a boat and she was the anchor he was leaving behind. His eyes were wide, the way they were for hours after Valentine revealed himself to be his father. Clary had sworn that she could see Jace pulling away from her that night, like his eyes were glossing over and his brain did the only thing it knew how to do in the presence of Valentine; survive. But this wasn’t that night, this was now, and she was drowning. She reached for him, praying he’d pull her out of the water but he only shook his head before he drifted off.

            “JACE,” Clary screamed herself awake. She was laying in Magnus’s dark apartment and even though she was awake, she still couldn’t breathe.

            “Hey,” Alec said as he knelt in front of her. His hair was a mess, like he had been asleep in the next room. He touched her arm gently. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re at Magnus’s.”

            “I saw Jace,” Clary replied. She pushed the blankets off of her and rose to her feet. She winced and pressed her hand against her side. She felt like she was made of glass and the shattered pieces were jutting out of her skin.

            “Clary, please,” Alec said and lightly wrapped his arm around her before she completely crumpled to the floor. “You have broken ribs and your skull was cracked. If Isabelle hadn’t gotten you to Magnus, we’re not sure what would have happened to you.”

            “That doesn’t matter now,” she replied as he leaned her back against the pillows. “I saw Jace!”

            “You were dreaming,” he answered as he placed the blankets back over her legs.

            “I know what dreaming feels like, Alec. That wasn’t dreaming, he was there! I saw him, he was looking over the side of the boat at me!”

            Alec sat on the floor and leaned his head against the couch cushion next to her thigh, “okay, tell me what happened in the dream.”

            “I was underwater and I couldn’t breathe,” Clary started.

            “That sensation was probably caused by the broken ribs,” Alec interrupted.

            “Do you want to hear about the dream or not?”

            “Of course, continue.”

            “I was tied down to something, like I was an anchor, or attached to one. And he was above the water and he looked at me. I reached for him to pull me onto the boat with him, but he just shook his head. Like it wasn’t my place or like he wanted to leave me behind or like…” Clary trailed off.

            “Like what Clary?”

            “Like he didn’t want to love me anymore,” Clary whispered. She felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying. Her chest started to hurt again, from the broken ribs or the broken heart, she couldn’t distinguish. Alec didn’t say anything but he graciously looked away from her while she cried. Clary and Alec were not what you’d call friends, but he at least was kind enough to look away from her when she showed weakness. “I know you think I’m pathetic.”

            “I don’t think you’re pathetic, Clary,” Alec answered. He sighed as he rubbed his face against his hands. “I think I might be the only person to actually understand what you’re feeling, except you didn’t know Jace was your brother when you fell in love with him. So, if anything, people will judge you a lot less than me.”

            “You two aren’t blood.”

            “I’m so tired of people saying that,” Alec retorted. “Blood doesn’t make a family. Valentine raised Jace but when Jace came to live with us, he was barely even a person. Family doesn’t do that. A real parent would never tear apart their kid and turn them into something that only knew how to express anger.”

            Clary watched Alec as he shifted uncomfortably and rang his hands. Alec wasn’t the kind to open up, or show any part of himself or his feelings. He communicated in sighs, grunts, and sarcasm. But Alec now was desperately searching for the words that he needed, like he needed Clary to know something. She counted the freckles on her arm while she waited for him to find the words and string them together into phrases. It was like when she was drawing, she needed time to develop the image she wanted to portray. It took hours of tearing pages out of her sketchbook because the lines needed to be just right because they held all the words. The lines, the paint, and the charcoal held the truth and she needed to convey it just right. Otherwise it was worthless and the message was lost. Alec needed time and she was content to wait.

            “It was a year before Jace let anyone touch him,” Alec said quietly. “He would always flinch when I went up to high five him, like the only time someone reached a hand towards him was to hit him. It took years for him to trust us, I think part of him is always waiting for us to reject him though. The first time I told him I loved him, he said that the only person that could ever love a monster like him was his father.”

            “That’s horrible,” Clary responded.

            “That’s abuse, Clary,” Alec replied. He looked at her then, his eyes pleading. “I’m only telling you this because I need you to understand something. Jace didn’t leave us because he thinks Valentine’s plan is the only way to save the world. He didn’t go because he wanted to get away from you. He went to the only person that can love him while still protecting the people he loves.”

            “How could he not think you love him? Or Isabelle?” Clary asked. She slid to the floor so her and Alec’s knees were touching, like she used to do with Simon when they told each other their darkest secrets. “You’ve fought together, nearly died for each other. It’s just not logical to think that you don’t really love him.”

            “I think that’s what you’re not getting,” Alec interrupted. “It’s not logical, none of what Valentine did to Jace’s mind is based in any logic. It’s the logic of a murderer that twisted his son into a self-hating warrior. Jace used to tell me that sometimes he couldn’t separate his father’s voice in his head from his own, like they had just melded together and he couldn’t separate truth from fiction.”

            “We have to get to him,” Clary said. It was the only thing she could think of. She didn’t understand any of this. Her mother meant everything to her and she meant everything to her mom. She couldn’t imagine being raised by a monster or how that would have affected her.

            “When we do,” Alec said as he pressed his face into his hands. “There’s a chance he won’t want to come.”

            “We’ll show him that we really do love him, we’ll…”

            “I’ve tried everything, Clary,” Alec interrupted. “For years. He’s my goddamn parabatai and he still wakes up thinking the mark will be gone and that I’ve changed my mind. He knew I was in love with him and he still told me I was in love with the idea of him, not the real him.”

            “Alec,” Clary leaned forward and gently rubbed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

            “I’m not even hurt by him or angry at him,” Alec replied with his face still in his hands. “It’s not his fault that he’s been conditioned to think that. It’s just…it’s…nevermind.”

            “You just thought you could love him enough to help him,” Clary said. Alec just nodded sadly. “Maybe our job isn’t to help him or save him, but to love him until he saves himself. I’m not giving up on him.”

            “I’m not either,” Alec said and he finally looked up at Clary. “I promise we’ll find him.”

            “I promise too,” Clary replied. She reached her hand forward and Alec wrapped his hand around her forearm. Clary had expected him to just shake her hand. She had only ever seen Alec grasp forearms with Jace, it was a sign of trust and respect. A promise to complete the mission and get out alive.

            They broke eye contact when they heard the sound of high heels slapping down the hallway. Isabelle walked into the room with Lydia close behind her. They were both dressed for battle.

            “We’ve already called Luke,” Isabelle said simply as she helped Clary slowly get to her feet. “The pack is ready to move when we give the word.”

            “Good,” Alec replied the same time Clary asked “move against who?”

            “You didn’t tell her?” Isabelle asked.

            “I was getting to it,” Alec replied.

            “Tell me what?” Clary asked nervously. She had only been unconscious for a few hours, what could have happened now?

            “The clave arrested Simon and are planning on taking him to the Silent Brothers to get information on the vampire clan and the impending war,” Lydia replied. She was always so clear and precise when she delivered information, like her mind shut off all form of emotion whenever she was on the job. Clary would have found it impressive if that tone of voice didn’t seem to always carry bad news.

            “We have to stop them,” Clary pleaded. Her ribs suddenly ached and she nearly fell over. Isabelle caught her and gently laid her on the couch.

            “Don’t worry, we already have a plan in motion,” Isabelle responded lightly. Clary could feel her breath on her skin.

“Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go,” Clary said with tears in her eyes from the pain.

“Not this time, nenita. Let us take care of this for a chance,” Isabelle said with a soft smile. “We’ve been trying to keep up with you since you came into our lives. This injury is just giving us time to finally catch up.”

“Just promise me you’ll get to him in time,” Clary pleaded. Isabelle slowly brushed her thumb against Clary’s cheek and Clary’s leaned into the warmth.

“I promise,” Isabelle whispered. She pressed her lips to Clary’s forehead and Clary shut her eyes as the relief washed over her.

“Is Magnus ready to go?” Lydia asked Alec.

“He was in bed when I left him, I don’t know if-”

“Of course I’m ready,” Magnus interrupted as he sashayed into the room. Clary smiled to herself. She hoped to one day be able to make grand entrances the way Magnus did so effortlessly. “Biscuit, I’m going to have to leave you alone while we get Simon but here,” he snapped his fingers and a small bottle appeared on the table, “is a potion for pain if it gets worse or you can just take it when we leave and then wake up when we’re back to pass the time.”

“Why couldn’t you just carry it in? I watched you make that last night,” Alec asked with a smile on his face.

“The snapping is always more impressive,” Magnus replied. “Don’t tell me you’ve already grown unaffected by my charms.”

Alec blushed and looked at his feet.

“What if they expect an ambush?” Clary asked from the couch.

“Oh they are expecting one,” Lydia replied. “That’s why I suggested they have two separate groups, one with Simon, one with a decoy, so if there’s an attack they can force the attackers to split up so they’ll be easier to take down.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Clary replied.

“We’re going to make them think they’re under attack,” Isabelle said as she sat on the couch next to Clary’s hip. “Then when they split up, Luke and the pack will chase both groups in separate directions and while they’re running Magnus will,” she snapped her fingers, “and before they realize it, Simon will be safe with us and they’ll think they lost him in the chaos.”

“How are you going to make them think they’re under attack without actually attacking them?” Clary asked.

“Oh yeah,” Alec said, almost absentmindedly as he took his hand out of Magnus’s with a blush on his cheeks. “Can you draw that rune you drew for the explosion that nearly killed you and brought a building down?”

“Why do you need me to draw it? I saw it in the book of runes Jace gave me.”

“You drew something different, the normal rune doesn’t cause that much damage,” Isabelle answered. “What you drew was something we’ve never seen before.”

“How could I have drawn a rune you don’t know?”

“It might have been a rune that fell out of practice,” Lydia replied. “That happens a lot, the same way words fall out of use, like groovy.”

“Of all the examples to choose,” Magnus said as he giggled. “I was there when they first started saying groovy in the 20s about the new kind of music they were playing.”

“Not that this history lesson isn’t fascinating,” Alec interrupted with his mouth pulled into a smirk. “But we need that rune, Clary.”

Clary nodded before pulling a piece of paper onto her lap and tracing the rune slowly with a marker. “I think this was it, but I don’t remember exactly. I just kind of did it on instinct.”

“Well it’s not like we can test it out,” Alec said as he pocketed it. “We’ll just hope it works.”

“Magnus, can’t you blow up shit with your magic?” Clary asked suddenly panicked that she hadn’t drawn it right. “If it doesn’t work, can’t you just,” she snapped her fingers before making an explosion sound.

Magnus’s eyes were wide as he smiled at her, clearly amused, “yes, I can,” he snapped his fingers too, “but I’ll be in a different position so I can get dear Simon.”

“It’s time,” Lydia said as she looked at her watch.

“Let’s go,” Isabelle said. She squeezed Clary’s hand before walking out of the room.

“Take the potion,” Magnus said as he followed Alec out. “It’ll make you heal faster,” he stopped and looked back at her, “like a lot faster. Like I had to lie to Alec about the ingredients being legal. That’s how fast.”

He winked at her before quickly walking out of the apartment. Clary waited a few seconds before grabbing the bottle and downing in. She fell back against the pillows as the pain of her bones shifting inside her chest was enough to make her scream. Before the sound could escape her throat, she passed out.

She woke up to the sound of yelling. She sat up quickly and felt the way she imagined a car felt after a head on collision. Her skin felt like it was on fire. Her chest was constricting and her bones felt too big for her body, like someone else’s skeleton was shoved under her skin. she cursed once to herself before she heard more shouting. She stood up shakily and began to walk to the front door before it slammed open. Magnus’s hands were glowing purple and he opened a portal in the middle of the room. “Go now,” he yelled as he pushed Alec, Lydia, and Isabelle towards it. “Get back into your bedrooms and pretend you never left!”

Lydia stepped through first. Isabelle wiped blood off of her lips before following after her. Alec pressed a quick kiss to Magnus’s lips before walking through. Magnus looked at Clary and yelled “you and Simon have to get out of here, now!” He shouted.

“Where’s Simon?” Clary yelled back. Magnus looked behind him before running back to the front door. He reentered with Simon leaning heavily on his shoulder.

“He can’t walk,” Magnus replied. “But you need to get out of here. They already suspect me of being there tonight and if they find you and him here when they show up, I’ll be the next one dragged to the Silent Brothers.”

“Where should we go?” Clary asked as she shifted Simon onto her shoulder.

“Somewhere safe,” Magnus replied as a knock sounded on the door. “Now!”

Clary pulled Simon into the portal thinking of the filing room in the police station. She held her breath as she pressed her nails into Simon, making sure she didn’t drop him while they were in the portal. When they landed in the filing room, Clary and Simon both fell against the cabinets before crashing to the floor. Clary bit back a scream and curled her hands into fists.

“Where are we?” Simon asked groggily next to her, his face pressed into the dirty carpet.

“The police station,” Clary replied gritting her teeth as her bones felt like they were melting into each other. The potion hadn’t finished working when she was woken up and she could feel the magic bending the sinews and tissues into place. She felt like there were hands ripping into her chest and all of her attention was focused on not screaming or passing out.

“You know that one time I ate five pot brownies because I thought they didn’t work,” Simon mumbled still face down. “And then it all kicked in at once and I thought I had reached another plane of existence? This trip was worse, Clary, I swear.”

“Simon,” Clary pleaded, her voice sounded as ragged as she felt.

“Clary,” Simon responded his voice heavy with anxiety. Clary felt him crawling towards her. “Clary, what’s wrong?”

“Magnus had to give me a potion to heal my ribs and I feel like I’m being ripped apart and shoved into a trash compactor at the same time,” Clary cried into the floor.

“What happened to your ribs?”

“I blew up a fucking building trying to find you and got caught in the explosion.”

“That has to be the most badass sentence you have ever said,” Simon said with a tired giggle.

“I have to sleep, can you keep watch?” Clary pleaded as she rubbed her face into the carpet. “Wake me if you hear anyone coming.”

“Sweet dreams,” Simon responded.

Clary closed her eyes and evened out her breathing. She felt the potion slip back over her mind and she fell asleep. She had only been asleep for a few hours when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She nearly cried in relief when she felt Simon grab it and answer it. About an hour later she heard the door to the room open.

She opened her eyes groggily as Luke kneeled next to her. “Magnus told you to go somewhere safe and you thought of the filing room in the police station?” he asked smiling down at her.

“I used to hide in here when I wanted to be alone,” she answered, her voice gravely. “No one comes in here.”

“You got that right,” he answered with a smile. “How are you, Simon?”

“I’m fine now that you’re here, pup daddy,” he responded. Clary looked at him. He was surrounded by open police files as he sat next to her on the floor. His wrists were red and his upper arms were covered in burns, like someone had forced his skin under sunlight or held an iron to his skin.

“Are you looking at my case files?” Luke asked bemusedly.

“I was bored,” Simon replied. “But I did find something weird in these demonic killings though.”

“We suspect Valentine is behind those. But what did you notice?”

“They all happened in ports and on shipping docks,” Simon said. “Almost like the person doing these is traveling on a boat and killing when they dock.”

“Wait,” Clary asked as she sat up suddenly remembering her dream in vivid detail. “Did you say on a boat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey babes,  
> sorry it's been so long. I'm officially an adult with a college degree so I should be able to write more. Hopefully. Things are about to pop off. Honestly every time I sit down to write I'm always ready to write the dramatic stuff I have planned then realized that I want it to make sense as a story and to flow and build and to show the characters' growth.  
> So sorry if you hate the slow build but I love slow builds.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses!!!
> 
> i'm alecalrightwood on tumblr if you have any comments, questions, or concerns.  
> Also let me know if you need me to add any trigger tags, I wanna make sure you guys are all safe while reading.  
> -C


	9. It's Stacked Against Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was impossible pleasure coupled with crippling pain. It was redemption and betrayal at the same time. Magnus says that he is Alec’s, but Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that he was Jace’s. He hadn’t found a way to decipher the feelings, brotherhood from the most unconditional of loves. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep and was running his fingertips over his parabatai rune in the dark, he would question if they weren’t the same thing. He didn’t know how to separate anything. It was all a giant ocean in the core of his chest and he felt like he was drowning every day.

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Nine

It’s Stacked Against Us

            “Clary, slow down,” Alec said into his phone, quietly. It was four in the morning and the institute was swarming with life as shadowhunters paced and scanned through traffic cam footage trying to locate the missing vampire and who had helped him escape. Isabelle was being questioned, as she was a suspect in Meliorn’s escape and seemed viable to commit this assault against the clave as well. Alec watched as New York City flooded across screens from different vantage points hoping against hope that their runes and Magnus’s spell successfully hid them from mundane cameras when they raced Simon away from the City of Bones.

            “I have a lead about where Jace is,” Clary basically shouted into the phone. Alec pulled the phone away from his ear wincing.

            “Where?” Alec asked as he rushed away from the ears of fellow shadowhunters.

            “Remember those demonic murders that Luke was investigating?”

            “Yes.”

            “They were drained of blood.”

            “I know, we already know that those were Valentine or members of the circle,” he responded as he ran his hand along his face clearly frustrated. Isabelle was being questioned and there was a chance Magnus could have been spotted and questioned next. He didn’t have time to discuss murders that were already solved.

            “They all happened in shipping yards or on docks,” Clary said like that was the key. Alec crinkled his brow and stared at the wall. “I can hear the face you’re making. Alec, you have to listen to me, they’re on a boat. I know it.”

            “Listen,” he started.

            “No, Alec, listen to me,” Clary interrupted. “I know you think the dream I had meant nothing but these two things aren’t coincidental. Why would Jace be completely untraceable? Why would these murders be only feet away from the water? Tracking doesn’t work over water, Alec, Valentine knows that. He also knows that your parabatai rune is weakened, Jace told him. It all makes sense.”

            “Okay,” Alec conceded. She did have a point even if it seemed outrageous to him that Valentine would just be floating off shore on a dinky boat. “What do you think we should do about it?”

            “I’m with Luke now,” Clary responded. “We’re going to plot each murder location and try to figure out his trajectory. He can’t just be randomly sailing places, he has to have a plan.”

            “That sounds like a good idea,” Alec said and he meant it. This was an actual viable lead. They had simply been putting out fires and handling crises since Valentine took Jace, but now they could be able to get ahead of Valentine.

            “I’ll call you when we find out something more,” Clary said. Alec nodded and hung up without another word. He was fully aware that his movements and facial expressions didn’t translate over a phone call, but Clary knew him well enough that he didn’t need words.

            Alec pocketed his phone and walked back to the other room. The security footage was still playing and five shadowhunters were watching it meticulously. He sat behind them and attempted to look nonchalant. His stomach was curled in knots with anxiety and his palms were sweating. The city streets slid by the screens in a blur as he tried to breathe evenly. A soft hand curled around his forearm. He turned quickly to see Izzy, her eyes were wide and her chest was heaving like she was trying not to be sick. Alec quickly stood and pulled her out of the room, along the hallway, and into his bedroom. Lydia slipped into the room before he could shut the door. Izzy sat on the edge of the bed, Lydia quickly following. She wrapped her arm around Isabelle as she leaned her elbows against her knees.

            “What happened?” Alec asked. He squatted in front of Isabelle and pressed his hand against her knee. “Izzy, talk to me. They can’t know it was us, I’ve been watching the footage.”

            Isabelle simply shook her head in reply then began to slightly rock back and forth. Her breathing was heavy and sporadic. “They don’t suspect us at all,” Lydia replied instead. She ran her hand soothingly up and down Isabelle’s back but it didn’t seem to be helping. “It’s much worse than that actually.”

            “What? Is Magnus in trouble?” Alec pulled out his phone to call him, panic seeping into his chest.

            “They don’t suspect him either,” Lydia said, gently pushing Alec’s phone away. “They think it was Valentine.”

            The trio sat in silence for a moment. Alec’s eyes went from Isabelle’s quivering form to Lydia, not understanding the panic. He furrowed his eyebrow at Lydia in hopes that she would continue.

            “They think Valentine attacked the clave and rescued Simon,” Lydia said, slowly.

            “What do they think he would want with a vampire?” Alec asked, even more confused now.

            “They’re taking the attack as confirmation that the New York Clan is working with Valentine,” Lydia replied. Isabelle sniffled loudly and Lydia resumed rubbing her back.

            “But, wait does that mean?” Alec started but stopped short as Isabelle raised her head. Tears were steadily trailing down her cheeks. She brushed them away with a shaky hand.

            “Clary has been declared enemy of the state for espionage and divulging Clave secrets,” she replied. Her voice was empty, hollow, and she dropped her eyes from Alec’s stare.

            “They can’t be serious,” was all Alec could think to say. “This is exactly what Valentine wanted.”

            “What do you mean?” Lydia asked. Alec felt her eyes on him as he paced in front of the bed.

            “The Clave has determined that Simon’s rescue was orchestrated by Valentine, right?” Alec asked. Lydia nodded her head. “The only reasons Valentine would do that are he’s in an alliance with the clan, but also because Simon is his beloved daughter’s best friend.”

            “Oh,” Lydia whispered.

            “We played right into his hand,” Alec grunted as he kicked his chair at his desk. “If she is an enemy of the clave and the clan, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go but to Valentine.”

            “She’ll stay with her dad,” Isabelle said quietly. Lydia looked at Isabelle, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

            “Valentine is her dad,” she said as she brushed some of Isabelle’s hair out of her face. Alec tried not to find Lydia’s gentle touches and tendency to invade Isabelle’s personal space as strange. He saw the way Izzy looked at Clary. He knew his sister better than himself. Clary made Isabelle feel everything much more intensely. It was the most amazing thing to watch when Clary made Isabelle happier than she had ever been, but it was like a million knives against his skin when he watched Clary cause Isabelle’s heart to splinter in her chest. Maybe, he couldn’t help but think to himself, the reason why Isabelle had easily guarded her heart all these years wasn’t because their mother had taught them love was foolishness, but rather because she had been avoiding the people she could fall in love with the entire time. Similar to what he had done, he stifled and smothered his heart so when it screamed in his ribcage it only sounded like a muffled hum.

            “Luke is her real dad,” Izzy said, shaking Alec out of his thoughts and back into matters at hand. “She would do anything to protect him, he’s family.”

            “She called all of you family too,” Lydia added gently. Alec blinked at her, sure they had protected Clary and helped her find her mother but he never thought that she had begun to regard them as family. Jace, sure, he technically is her brother. But Alec? “She said it as a threat to me when Alec and I were still engaged,” Lydia continued. “She said ‘these people are my family, and I protect my family’, I mean it wasn’t scary, it was more endearing than anything.”

            “Only you would find a threat endearing,” Alec scoffed.

            “Well that was before I knew how powerful she is, wasn’t it?” Lydia replied quickly.

            “That doesn’t matter now,” Isabelle interrupted. Her eyes wide at Alec and Lydia’s jests while Clary was in danger. “We have to get to her before the Clave does. We have to warn her.”

            “They’re watching us,” Lydia said, her voice dark. “They don’t trust us anymore, not when it comes to Clary and Jace.”

            “I don’t care,” Isabelle said as she climbed to her feet. “I’m going to find her and keep her safe. If the Clave wants to arrest her for something she didn’t do, something we did, they’ll have to get through me.”

            Alec grabbed her before she could reach the doorway and sat her back on the bed, “you stay here, and I’ll go.”

            “They’re watching you too, Alec,” Isabelle replied as she tried to get up again.

            “I have an excuse to leave the institute though, you don’t.”

            “What’s your excuse?”

            “I do have a boyfriend that I publicly kissed in front of everyone, remember?” Alec said with a slight smile on his lips. He liked the way the word boyfriend felt on his lips.

            “Oh, I remember,” Lydia laughed. “So you’re going to say what?”

            “I have a date,” Isabelle said in a deep, monotone voice trying to impersonate Alec.

            “I do not sound like that,” Alec said as he nudged her knee, playfully. “But basically, yeah.”

            He stood up and went to his closet. He pulled on his leather jacket, slipped his steele into his pocket, and pulled his bow and quiver on.

            “Bring a blade, too,” Lydia suggested.

            “I don’t want to look like I’m going to war,” Alec said as he cast a glamour on the bow and quiver.

            “We _are_ at war, Alec,” Isabelle said softly. “Take it just in case.”

            “Okay,” he conceded.           

            “God, does Clary have any weapons on her?” Isabelle asked, anxiety causing all of her muscles to tense. “Does she have any clothes? Her steele? Anything?”

            Isabelle began to pace as she listed all the things Clary could be missing. Alec watched helplessly. He had reacted the same way, pacing for hours after they lost Jace. He made list after list, packed bag after bag of Jace’s things just to unpack them when he realized he couldn’t deliver it to him.

            “Hey,” Lydia said softly. She placed a hand between Izzy’s shoulder blades and shockingly, Izzy let her wrap her up in her arms. Izzy leaned her head on Lydia’s shoulder and Lydia held her tightly, like she was trying to keep all her pieces together.

            “I’ll call you as soon as I get to her,” Alec said. He started to walk to the door before his heart tugged in his chest. He stepped back to the girls and wrapped his arms around both of them. They stood like that, clinging to each other’s bones, for a few minutes. Alec let go with a heavy sigh and left the room. He knew Lydia could get Isabelle to calm down, Lydia had a way of making everyone’s lungs breathe when they were clenched like fists.

            He grabbed a seraph blade on his way out and no shadowhunter stopped him as he strode to the door. Their eyes followed him, suspicious enough to look but without cause to stop him, they were forced to let him pass. He decided to go to Magnus’s apartment first just in case one of them did chose to follow him.

            “Alexander,” Magnus sighed as he opened the door. Alec quickly stepped into the apartment and before he could say hello, Magnus was pressed against his chest, his arms woven around his waist. His shoulders shook against Alec’s body.

            “Hey,” he said softly into Magnus’s hair. “We’re okay, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he repeated those words like a mantra, his heart stinging as he recalled repeating the same words to Jace over and over throughout the years. He could never get Jace to breathe evenly again when he fell into states of panic. All he could do was stare while Jace crumbled like an old building during demolition, his hands useless against Jace’s face. But the shuddering form in his arms wasn’t Jace, it was Magnus. Magnus, the man Alec could have sworn made statues envious of his stillness in the face of danger. The man that watched empires rise and fall throughout centuries. The man that was now clinging to Alec like he was a life raft in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

            “They came, they searched,” Magnus said in a panicked voice, his face still pressed against the cotton of Alec’s t shirt. “I had to nearly throw Clary and Simon through a portal, I don’t know where they landed, or if they landed, the potion she drank was still in complete control of her body.”

            “They’re fine,” Alec cooed, his hands massaging designs into Magnus’s tense shoulder blades. “They’re with Luke but I have to get to them.”

            Alec had tried to keep his voice steady, but anxiety had slipped into his tone. He hadn’t been good at hiding his emotions from Magnus, like his heart had decided the moment their eyes met that Magnus was the one person he would never lie to. He was the first place his heart had felt at home with, Magnus was his safety net. Magnus stepped away from Alec so he could look at him properly. He laid a soft hand against the side of Alec’s face. Alec leaned into the touch before kissing Magnus’s palm.

            “The clave declared Clary and Simon an enemy of the state,” he said. Magnus’s eyes went wide in shock. Alec could hear Jace’s voice in the back of his head screaming _maybe your best isn’t good enough_. The echo of Jace was right though. He had only promised Jace one thing, to keep Clary safe. And he had failed miserably.

            “It’s not your fault,” Magnus said, his thumb spreading something damp across his cheek. It was only then that Alec realized that he had started to cry, just a few tears leaking from his eyes.

            “I have to find Clary,” Alec said simply. His voice was hard again and he stepped away from Magnus. He felt himself putting up a wall between him and Magnus, he didn’t mean to but he needed to. He couldn’t fall apart, not now, not when everyone needed him to be the soldier he was raised to be. Magnus hands on him felt like jackhammers against a dam, if it broke Alec wouldn’t know if he’d ever be able to stop the outpouring that would follow. He was afraid, he was afraid of feeling too much, of doing too little, of his friends dying while he smiled under Magnus’s tender touches. His happiness was last on his list of priorities, and always would be. He felt Magnus’s eyes on him, searching for another way to reach Alec again. The cracks in Alec’s armor were few and far between, only visible in a certain light to careful eyes.

            “Alexander,” Magnus pleaded. The tone broke Alec’s heart. “Please don’t walk away from me again. Not now, not when everything is falling apart.”

            Alec turned away and looked at his hands, they were shaking. He curled them into fists, like he was prepared to go to war with his heart, beat it into submission. Magnus stepped in front of him and wrapped a hand around Alec’s right fist. His hands were warm, his eyes misty behind a curtain of tears that hadn’t fallen but were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive off and fall down Magnus’s face. Alec pulled his hand away and Magnus’s hand fell against his side harshly, like it was dead weight unless it was holding onto Alec.

            “I can’t,” Alec said, his voice impossibly thick.

            “You can,” Magnus answered, taking another step closer to him. His chest was heaving like Alec pulling away from him stole the breath right from his chest. Alec shook his head and Magnus put his hand against Alec’s forearm again.

            “I can’t,” Alec started again. He took a steadying breath. “I can’t protect anyone, I can’t put the world back together if I’m too busy falling in love with you.”

            Magnus took a small step away from Alec and even though Alec had wanted the space, had felt himself building his walls back up, had wanted nothing more than Magnus to give up on him, Alec felt cold. He didn’t know why he was like this, why he needed to push everything that felt good away, or give it to someone else. His whole being felt at peace with Magnus and his entire brain just screamed for him to destroy the little bit of solace he had. Every kiss from Magnus made his parabatai rune throb and all he could think about was Jace bleeding somewhere being tortured by his own father while Alec was sighing into Magnus’s mouth. Not thirty minutes ago he was smiling to himself calling Magnus his boyfriend. Why couldn’t the happiness last?

            “Because you won’t let it,” Magnus answered. Alec startled a bit, not realizing he had said the last part out loud. “Alexander, letting yourself be happy isn’t betraying the world.”

            “It’s selfish,” Alec whispered.

            “Then be selfish,” Magnus replied, stepping back into Alec’s space. “Be impossibly, disgustingly selfish with me. Because I’m all yours.”

            Alec blinked at him, the vulnerability and openness Magnus showed Alec was overwhelming. It made all of his words crash into each other, like freight trains falling off the tracks. He sputtered and stuttered a few times, trying to say something because Magnus was looking at him like he had hung the moon just for him. All the ways Alec had wished that Jace would look at him for years kept appearing on Magnus’s face. It made Alec’s heart swell and scream at the same time. It was impossible pleasure coupled with crippling pain. It was redemption and betrayal at the same time. Magnus says that he is Alec’s, but Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that he was Jace’s. He hadn’t found a way to decipher the feelings, brotherhood from the most unconditional of loves. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep and was running his fingertips over his parabatai rune in the dark, he would question if they weren’t the same thing. He didn’t know how to separate anything. It was all a giant ocean in the core of his chest and he felt like he was drowning every day.

            “Magnus, I-” he sputtered. Magnus looked up at him, eyeliner completely smudged, eyes wide and begging him not to hurt him while also haughtily saying ‘do your worst shadowhunter’. Alec couldn’t breathe. “I don’t know what to do.”

            “Why did you come here?” Magnus asked and took another step closer.

            “So the clave would think I was going to my boyfriend’s instead of going to Clary,” Alec answered honestly. Magnus’s face twitched at the word boyfriend, not a smile but the ghost of one.

            “So you don’t want to fall in love with me, but you want to be my boyfriend,” Magnus asked. His voice didn’t sound hurt but it didn’t sound like he was enjoying the conversation either.

            “I’m already doing both and I’m fucking terrified,” Alec said without thinking. He blanched when he realized what he had said. Magnus stepped closer to him and Alec let him. “Emotions cloud judgement,” he whispered.

            “You said after you kissed me at the wedding that you felt clarity,” Magnus whispered back. His hand back on Alec’s cheek, his thumb lightly tracing his cheekbone. “In the church after Jace left, I told you we would find a way to fix this.”

            Alec stared at him. What Magnus was saying was true, he couldn’t deny it. When he kissed Magnus in front of the entire clave, he did feel clarity. He felt like he was honest for the first time and that they were finally seeing him. After Jace left, Magnus did promise him that they would find a way to fix everything together but, “everything is just getting worse. I’ve been making the wrong decisions.”

            “You’ve been human,” Magnus replied softly. “You’re half human, Alec. You’re bound to make mistakes. None of us know what we’re doing, we’re fallible, we’re bound to fail and fall and lose, but we get back up.”

            Alec felt a shiver down his spine at the last part of Magnus’s sentence. He remembered telling himself that he was a Lightwood. He broke noses and the doors off of closets, and accepted the consequences. He nodded to Magnus slowly, feeling his breath start to return to normal. His heart and rune still hurt, but he could breathe.

            “I’m sorry,” he said so soft it sounded like a sigh.

            “Oh, Alexander,” Magnus replied. “Fear is not a failure, it’s just something to overcome.”

            Alec pressed his forehead against Magnus’s and nodded.

            “But please, my angel,” Magnus whispered, his voice a little ragged. “Please remember that when you throw me away in order to be selfless, you’re breaking my heart. There’s two of us in this, me and you. You’re afraid of falling in love, baby, I’m terrified too. But don’t go where I can’t follow, don’t fall so far into fear I can’t reach you.”

            “I’m sorry,” Alec said again. His voice broken, he felt broken. Even when he tried to not hurt anyone, to do the right thing, to protect everyone, he ended up hurting someone that meant everything to him. He couldn’t find the words to say everything he needed to but he settled with, “I thought that me walking away from this would be the least painful move for everyone.”

            Magnus answered by kissing him. Alec was surprised by the sudden crash of lips but he kissed him back anyway. Magnus’s kisses were harsh against his mouth like he had been starving for years and Alec was the first nourishment he had seen. Alec returned the intensity and felt himself get lost in the slide of their lips, the push and pull. He gasped when Magnus’s teeth gripped his bottom lip and pulled it deeper into his mouth. Magnus took the opportunity to slide his tongue into Alec’s mouth. He slid his tongue over Alec’s and Alec felt the shiver ghost up his spine.

            His hands ghosted down Magnus’s sides while Magnus’s fingers tugged on his hair. Alec dug his fingers into his lower back before squeezing Magnus’s ass. Magnus smirked into the kiss and the feeling of that smirk drove Alec crazy. Without thought he put his hands under Magnus’s ass and picked him up. Magnus let out a noise of shock before wrapping his legs around Alec’s waist. Their mouths fell together again before Magnus began to kiss along Alec’s jawline. Alec navigated them to the couch and sat with Magnus straddling him. He ran his hands up Magnus’s thighs again, loving the feel and the noises Magnus made when he did it.

            Magnus kissed Alec’s deflect rune and Alec’s brain felt like it was short circuiting. “Magnus,” he sighed as Magnus dug his teeth in a little to pull at the skin. Alec whimpered under the touch as Magnus moved lower and sucked more hickeys onto his skin. He felt like his whole body was on fire. He had never done this, never had his body run rampant with desire. He was twenty one years old and had never properly made out with someone before. And here he was, losing his mind under Magnus’s mouth unable to string sentences together. He just kept saying “fuck Magnus” and moaning.

            Magnus pulled off of his neck and smiled down at Alec. Alec’s chest was heaving, his hands firmly grasping Magnus’s hips in a way that was probably painful. “My beautiful angel,” Magnus sighed before kissing him softly again. They lazily kissed for a while with Magnus cupping his face like he was made of glass. Alec felt lost in it, completely lost in Magnus’s touch, lost in the warm feeling curled in his stomach. But before he could completely drift away with Magnus, his phone rang. Magnus slid off of Alec’s lap and plopped onto the couch.

            “Hello,” Alec answered, his voice rough from the moaning and cursing Magnus had pulled out of him.

            “Hey, Alec, I have a solid lead. You have to meet me right away,” Clary replied. It sounded like she was running.

            “Clary,” Alec shouted as he quickly climbed to his feet. “The clave is looking for you, they think you’re working with Valentine. You need to get into hiding.”

            Clary simply laughed into the phone. “Wow, while the clave has been sitting with their thumbs up their asses and making a list of innocent people to arrest, I’ve found where Valentine could be heading next.”

            “Clary, please don’t go anywhere until I get there,” Alec pleaded as he pulled his jacket back on. He didn’t remember taking it off but Magnus had a habit of magicing things away when they were in the heat of the moment. “Where are you?”

            “I’m at Pier 57 on the Hudson,” she said breathlessly. “Get here, quick.”

            She hung up. Alec felt the anxiety creep back into his body. He looked to Magnus who was still sprawled on the couch, still in the cloud of bliss. “Have you ever been to Pier 57?”

            “By the Hudson? No, but I can portal you pretty close,” he replied with a smirk. He quickly climbed to his feet and pressed another kiss to Alec’s rune. Alec’s eyes flickered close. “Interesting,” he purred before twisting his hands in a delicate dance and opened a portal. He lifted himself onto his tippy toes and kissed Alec again.

Alec kissed him back before stepping through the portal with a quick, “I’ll call you later.”

He landed a little too harshly on the pavement and grunted. He could see the water from where Magnus had portaled him and ran until he found Pier 57.

He saw Clary ahead of him, rounding a corner of a shipping container. She had her seraph blade drawn and was moving soundlessly, the way they had trained her too. She had picked up shadowhunter skills and moves with impressive speed. They had been training for years and besides her lack of experience, there wasn’t much indication that she was years behind them. He had almost caught up to her before she peered into the doorway of the large warehouse near the water. She glanced back at him, her eyes wide with terror before a thing that looked like a black tentacle made of smoke wrapped itself around her throat and dragged her through the doors.

Alec screamed her name as he slammed into the warehouse, his bow out and armed. The entire warehouse was crawling with demons. He felt fear in his throat as he realized he had no back up at all. He heard Clary’s yell and the scream of a demon dying. He was firing arrow after arrow, pulling his seraph blade out whenever a demon got to close. He was covered in black slime before long and had lost count of the number of demons he had brought down. His body was screaming in pain, he had also lost count of how many had bitten him. He could still hear Clary fighting but he couldn’t see her. All he could feel was pain and the blade slicing through the swarm of demons, but every time one fell another appeared.

He lost sense of time, everything was blood and carnage and pain and screaming. He didn’t even realize he was screaming until he heard his own voice echoing off the walls. After what felt like years, the last demon fell. Alec crumpled to the ground after it. He laid there for a moment before he heard Clary calling to him. He slowly climbed to his feet and found her on the ground. She was bleeding badly, gashes and bites covering most of her body. She reached out to him and he pulled her to her feet. They stumbled out of the warehouse, clinging to each other for balance.

“I’m so sorry, Alec,” she sobbed. “I didn’t look, I didn’t think, I just thought I found Jace.”

“It’s okay,” Alec grunted as they both fell against a shipping container. “I would have done the same thing if I thought I found Jace.” They leaned against the container before they both lost their footing and fell to the gravel.

“Can you feel him anymore?” she asked as she spat gravel and blood out of her mouth. “The rune, can you feel him?”

“No,” Alec answered, his face pressed against the gravel not caring about the bite of the stones against his skin. “He left me.”

Clary sobbed before screaming, crumpling over herself and pressing her face harder into the gravel. Alec couldn’t tell if the scream was caused by the venom in her bloodstream or the ache of Jace’s absence. Her screams almost sounded like a howl, full of longing and pain. Alec felt tears falling down his face before he screamed too. His parabatai rune felt like it was on fire, his spine felt like it was coiling up, his skin was burning, and his brain felt like it was splitting in two.

“Call Magnus,” he yelled at Clary before he began screaming in pain again as the rune throbbed again. He couldn’t tell up from down, or remember where he was. All he felt was unbearable pain everywhere on his body. He could have sworn he saw Jace’s face swim behind his eyelids before he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody,
> 
> sorry this took so long. I'm been living on my friend's couch and time just got away from me. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it. I love you guys a lot.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.
> 
> (i'm alecalrightwood on tumblr if u have any questions or concerns)


	10. I Drive You Crazy But You Always Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter runs parallel to last chapter~~~

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Ten

I Drive You Crazy But You Always Return

            Simon paced in the backroom of the Jade Wolf. Clary had only left ten minutes ago, her hope nearly causing her to levitate as she ran out of the building with a scream of “he might be there!” Simon had wanted to follow after her, make sure she didn’t get herself killed but the sun had just risen. Also there was a price on his head. There always seemed to be someone looking for him or ready to kill him on sight. It was honestly tiring more than frightening.

            He kicked empty boxes as he turned again around the room. He hated this feeling, helplessness and guilt all wrapped up like a nauseating cocktail in his stomach. He just wanted to talk to Raphael, he was the only one that could explain to him what had happened in Camille’s loft. Only Raphael could convince him he wasn’t a monster. Only Raphael could make his heart stop from feeling so damn homesick. He stared down at his phone, fully knowing Raphael didn’t want to hear from him. He should respect Raphael’s wishes. If he didn’t want Simon, Simon wouldn’t call or reach out. But all the same, a small part of him (probably the part of him that was the reason he had nearly been killed a thousand times since he was introduced to the Downworld) made him want to try. He dropped himself onto the ground in the shadows and quickly fell asleep with Raphael on his mind.

            He woke just before sundown. He quickly slurped down the cows blood Luke had left him, grimacing at the remembrance of the mundane he had drank dry. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the memory. All he could do was bury the memories, swallow them down as far as they would go and hope he wouldn’t throw them back up later. He felt like a monster, he had fangs in his mouth. Each swipe of his tongue over them reminded him of what he had done, of who he was now. He wasn’t the same Simon. He didn’t fit anywhere anymore. His mother’s house was lost to him, the Institute was no longer a solace, and his new found home in the DuMort had shut its doors to him.

            “You’ll always belong with me, my little caramel,” Camille’s voice echoed in his head. “You’ll always be mine.”

            Simon shut his eyes again as his shoulder’s shook. His stomach twisted and it took everything in him not to puke up the blood he had just drank. With tears in his eyes, he tapped gently on Raphael’s name in his phone. If he felt he still was worthy enough to pray to his God, he would have. Begging for help, for guidance, for some form of forgiveness. God had to know he was sorry. He had to know that Simon would rip the fangs from his mouth if he could. He’d crawl his way back to the synagogue, letting his skin burn under the sun’s smirk. He’d do anything to find meaning again. His life had become a series of running, begging for his life, and blood dripping from his mouth as he tried to fight the animalistic impulses that overtook his mind.

            The phone rang, rang, and rang against Simon’s ear. He felt the tears brimming in his eyes as he waited for the voicemail to pick up but the phone just kept ringing and ringing, like Raphael was holding his phone unsure if he wanted to speak to Simon. It had been weeks and Simon felt sick not knowing how Raphael was or what he was doing.

            “Are you hurt?” Raphael answered after what felt like hours of ringing. Simon tried to form words but all that came out was a whimper. His breath shook and he started and stopped sentence after sentence. “Meet me on the roof of the DuMort.”

            Raphael hung up before Simon could respond. He slid one of Luke’s jackets on, he tended to wear someone else’s clothes when he needed support and he often did it without asking for permission. He had lost Alec’s jacket all together. It was probably ripped to shreds in Camille’s apartment, covered in blood, and smelling of regret. Simon hastily wiped his tears before they could fall. He scrunched his nose at the scent of dog wafting from the jacket as he ran to the hotel, but it felt like Luke so he could ignore the stench.

            “Hueles a mierda,” Raphael remarked as Simon climbed onto the roof. “Like dog.”

            “Yeah,” Simon said a little breathless even though he didn’t need to breathe. Something about Raphael always knocked the breath from his lungs. “It’s, um, it’s the jacket. It’s Luke’s.”

            “I don’t care,” Raphael replied. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was looking past Simon, like he wasn’t even there.

            “It’s cold and even though I can’t feel it doesn’t mean I don’t remember how it feels to be cold,” Simon said, his voice quick as anxiety took over his brain. “And it’s not like I could grab my own jacket since I can’t go back to my mother’s and I think Camille ripped Alec’s to shreds and-”

            “Camille?” Raphael interrupted, still not looking at Simon but with his eyebrows raised. “Why were you with her? I told you she was dangerous.” Raphael threw his hands up in frustration. “Dios, Simon, why won’t you listen to me? Just once! But no, you’d rather be un idiota and follow your angels stupidly, like they won’t turn on you the second they can!”

            “You can cut the lecture,” Simon responded, too tired to be mad. “I didn’t chose to go with Camille, she took me! I didn’t want to do the things, I didn’t,” Simon stopped. The memories swam back. Camille’s hands around his throat, her fangs biting along his skin, chasing his veins with her tongue. He remembered the girl’s scream in the apartment, the way she fought. She was angry in her fear, Simon had smirked as she struggled.

            “What did she make you do?” Raphael asked. His voice was softer, but he hadn’t come any closer and his arms were still crossed over his chest.

            “She didn’t make me,” Simon stopped again as nausea swooped through his body. “She just showed me what I am.”

            Raphael simply stared at him, waiting for Simon to say what he came to say. His spine was straight, all of his joints locked in place. He was completely closed off to Simon and Simon deserved it.

            “I killed a mundane,” he said. Raphael’s eyebrows knit together, in anger or concern Simon couldn’t tell. “I drank her dry and I liked it. Then Clary nearly killed herself to get me away from Camille, just to have the Clave send me to the Silent Brothers.”

            “How did you survive that?” Raphael asked. His gaze had shifted to his nails, like he was bored.

            “Not all shadowhunters want to see all downworlders dead,” Simon responded. “The same ones that killed three vampires here are the ones that are risking their lives to try and repair the damage.”

            “Am I supposed to applaud murders when they look at the corpses of the victims and say they’re sorry?” Raphael spat at him. “Should I bow before all who realize that their actions were disgraceful, without honor, and manipulative? Should I open my arms to every traitor that comes back because he realizes the world is cruel and craves the home he threw back in my face?”

            “Wow, Saint Raphael,” Simon spat back at him. “Ever so righteous. You sit pretty in your ineptitude while the downworld crumbles around us.”

            “Ineptitude?” Raphael shouted. “I carried your dead body across the whole city, to your precious nephilum. I could have left you to die, nameless and loveless in the street. A fledging that never came to full form. That’s what you deserve now, I would kill you myself but this is a new suit and I can’t stand the thought of your traitorous blood on it. I wouldn’t be able to rinse the stench of you off of it.” Raphael turned on his heel and began to walk back to the door into the hotel. “The world’s going to burn, fledgling. Run now or get some marsh mellows, it’s going to be quite the show.”

"Fine, walk away! Oh and you don't have to worry," Simon shouted to Raphael’s back, his hurt twisted into anger and resentment. "I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Raphael asked with his jaw tight. His shoulders were straighter than a soldier, his breathing shallow, probably shallower than the grave he buried his last hope in.

"That you could have loved me," Simon answered, his voice harsh like he had held it over coals and let it burn. "That you declared war to push me away, that you put a battlefield between us, and let the world go up in smoke rather than admit you’re hurting.”

"This isn't about you," Raphael growled in response. His anger so palpable the air seemed thick, like they were talking through bull proof glass.

"Just hurt me!" Raphael flinched at the pleading tone of Simon’s voice. "I did this to you, Raphael! I needed time! I needed more."

"More of what?" Raphael yelled. He was facing Simon now, his chest heaving as he fought back tears. "I gave you EVERYTHING. You had all of my time, all of my patience, all of my-" he paused and finally the tears fell. "You had all of my heart, Simon. And you walked away."

"But I came back!" Simon was yelling now too, his anger and hurt splintering off of him like shards of glass shot by a hollow point bullet of desperation. "I'm here now!"

"Because you have nowhere else to go!" Raphael screamed and his hands slammed against Simon’s chest. Simon didn’t flinch at Raphael’s sudden closeness, or the power of his fists against his ribs. Part of him hoped he would crack under Raphael’s hands, a giant chasm forming in his body wide enough to swallow all of Raphael’s anger and hurt. "Don't think for a moment that I can't see through you! You don't get to pretend to want me because Valentine's spawn doesn't want you!"

"You expected too much out of me," Simon cried and he held Raphael's hands to his chest. Raphael chocked back tears as his balled Simon's shirt up in his fists. "I lost everything and I held onto the only thing I had left! I followed Clary because she was all I had left! She was Rose and I was fucking Jack clinging onto the goddamn door freezing my ass off!"

"Who the fuck are Jack and Rose?" Raphael yelled before Simon could rant himself out of the conversation.

"Why haven't you seen Titanic??!" Simon yelled back. "It's one of the greatest films of our time!"

"This is pointless," Raphael answered. He let go of Simon’s shirt and turned to walk back into the hotel. Simon reached the door before him and planted himself in front of it.

"No!" He shouted and blocked Raphael's hands from reaching the door handle. "This isn't pointless! This is me begging you to let me fix this."

"You can't fix laws once their broken," Raphael said quietly reaching for the handle again. All he wanted was to get away from Simon, to get away from his heart, to get away from the hurt. He'd leave New York if that was the only option.

"I don't give a fuck about the law! I mean you and me! Me and you, Raphael! I don't care if you rip apart the entire down world. Fight your war, don't fight your war. Just come home to me when you're done playing soldier. I don't care about the clan leader, the diplomat, the sexy vampire. I care about YOU, Raphael. I want you."

Raphael stared at Simon for a few moments trying to understand what he was saying.

"You're not here because the clave wants you to fix the accords?"

            “Why would I do the clave any favors? They put a price on my head.”

"Why did you come here then? That has to be the dumbest plan, even for you."

"Why am I here?" Simon asked, his mouth open from shock. "Are you stupid?"

"Excuse m-" Raphael started before Simon kissed him. It was desperate and sloppy and without any coordination but it was Simon and Raphael had missed him so much he felt like there was a hole in his chest, an endless void that he hadn't stopped falling into since Simon left.

Raphael kissed him back hard, every ounce of hurt and anger and longing slipping off his lips. They fell back against the door and Simon's hands wove into Raphael's hair so gently Raphael could have cried. He bit into Simon's lip and tugged it into his mouth. Simon gasped out but he didn't try to hurt Raphael back. His hands were gentle against the side of his face, down his neck, across his chest before settling on top of his shoulders. When Raphael pulled away to look at Simon, Simon leaned in to press light kisses against Raphael's cheeks and jaw. He kissed against Raphael's pulse point and when he shivered in response, Simon bit down lightly.

"Why are you being so gentle?" Raphael asked, his voice raspy and low.

"I think I've hurt you enough," Simon responded kissing against Raphael's cheek again. "I'm sorry, Raphael." He pressed his lips against Raphael's softly. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry I didn’t stop Clary and Izzy. If I had known I would have stopped it. I'm sorry I followed them. I'm sorry I kissed you when I was hurting and just needed to be wanted. I'm sorry I'm so bad at loving you, but I swear I'm going to get better."

Simon stopped ranting when he realized Raphael had stopped moving. Simon leaned back against the door to look at Raphael's face. His eyes were closed and when he finally opened them he smiled.

"You love me?" Raphael asked quietly, his eyes so wide Simon could see the moon behind them reflected in it.

"I’m trying to,” Simon said as he pressed more kisses to Raphael’s jaw.

"Please don't leave me again. I can't afford to refurbish your room again,” Raphael said as he twisted his hands into Simon’s hair and tugged lightly, completely losing himself to Simon’s mouth.

"Refurbish? What the fuck did you do to it?" Simon asked, pulling his mouth off of Raphael’s neck.

"I was hurting," Raphael responded with a shrug before pressing kisses behind Simon’s ear and along his jaw.

"Did you rip up my comics?" Simon asked a little breathlessly. He tilted his head back to give Raphael better access to his neck. Raphael hummed against Simon’s skin and Simon thought his knees would give out just from the pleasure.

"Dios, no. I was mad but I'm not a monster," Raphael mumbled before kissing Simon’s clavicle.

"My Raphael," Simon whispered and then pulled Raphael away from his neck to kiss him again. Raphael smiled against his mouth. Simon could still feel Raphael’s walls up around his heart, but he’d wait forever for Raphael’s hurt to subside and for the trust to rebuild. “Good thing we're immortal."

"Why?"

"Because I could do this forever." Raphael rolled his eyes in response and then without warning stepped away from Simon, pressing one hand against Simon’s chest when he tried to reconnect their lips. "What? What's wrong?"

"Angel blood," he answered before breathing deep in through his nose. "And the werewolves. Looks like they brought the fight to us." He pressed a chaste kiss to Simon's forehead quickly then opened the door and pulled them both inside. "COVER ALL THE ENTRANCES AND GET READY. THE ANGELS BROUGHT THEIR DOGS." Raphael shouted out.

Vampires sped past them and down the stair cases, all of them carrying weapons. Some looked scared, others angry, and a few of them looked absolutely delighted, like they had been waiting for an excuse to kill Shadowhunters for centuries. Simon felt their glares against him but Raphael shouted orders in their face before they could say anything.

“Send the angels back to heaven,” one vampire cackled as he ran past them carrying a blade in each hand.

"No," Simon yelled as he pulled on Raphael's arm. "Let me talk to them! I can get them to stop!"

"Why would they listen to you, Simon?” Raphael shouted back as he turned to face Simon. “You’re an escaped prisoner! I need you to understand that your friends are different from the rest of the nephilum. The rest would kill every single downworlder if they could find a reason to do it. They respect their law but their laws protect no one but themselves! I won't risk losing you to stop a war they started!"

"You won't lose me!" Simon pleaded. “I promise you, you won’t! I just came home, I’m not going anywhere.”

"I never thought I'd lose Nicolas either,” Raphael said, his voice harsh and his eyes dark. “But you can still smell his ashes in the air."

"I can fix this! Let me fix this!" Simon shouted. But Raphael shook his head as he began to walk through the hallways of the hotel again, shouting orders at the clan members.

"You didn't break this, Simon,” Raphael said as he pulled Simon into his bedroom. “The accords have been cracked since they were created, the Shadowhunters have always treated us like we were beneath them! They were going to break with or without you. If you don't want to fight, don't. I won't make you kill your friends. But you're not going to talk to them, they’ll kill you on sight.”

"Alec won't let that happen!" Simon shouted. He knew Alec, he knew what he believed and what he would and wouldn’t allow to happen. Senseless murder was something he’d stop, especially if it was Simon’s life. They were friends now. Or friendsish.

“That Lightwood archer?” Raphael asked with a bark of laughter that didn’t reach his eyes. “He's so far down on the chain of command, he's powerless. This is the clave manipulating the alliance Clary made with the werewolves. But if they want the entire downworld dead, they're going to have to look us in the eye as they kill us."

"Raphael!" Simon pleaded, his hands framing Raphael’s face, hoping against hope he’d call it off and run from the war.

"I know you said you don't care about the clan leader,” Raphael said softly as he leaned into Simon’s hands. “That you only care about me. But I am the clan leader and I have to do what's right for all of us. We knew shadowhunters were coming for us, I’m honestly a little surprised the clave made it here before Valentine. But regardless," he said with a smirk, “all angel blood tastes the same.”

Raphael kissed him one last time before exiting the room. Simon heard his voice booming out more orders. He stood there helpless while the vampires prepared for a war that he never meant to cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we gooooooo. My babes are back and I am at peace.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses!


	11. It's Stacked Against Us

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Eleven

It’s Stacked Against Us

            Alec felt foggy. Actually, more than foggy. He felt like he was the fog. He couldn’t tell where his consciousness ended and his body began. He couldn’t feel his skin, or his bones. He was a floating mass of nothingness and a small part of him loved it. The inhabitance, the echoing of his thoughts. He felt like empty hallways in an empty house, left only with the memories of the life that had lived there, so distant they didn’t cause pain anymore. He took a deep breath and he felt it. He felt his lungs pressing against his ribs. Mostly because it hurt so fucking much. He breathed deep again and was met with pain so deep he couldn’t stop a moan of pain from escaping his lips.

            “Alexander?”

            Alec felt his eyebrows knit together but he couldn’t get his eyes to open. He felt soft warm fingers pressed against his pulse point and breath ghosting against his wrist, as if someone was feeling for his pulse. It was ridiculous, he was obviously alive. He had just made a noise, for the angel’s sake. He tried to open his mouth to assure them he was still kicking but his jaw felt like it was nailed shut and cemented over. He took over breath through his nose and, with a lot of concentration, exhaled through his mouth. He sighed at his accomplishment.

            Soft hands, probably the same ones that felt for his pulse, brushed some hair off of his forehead. The contact was brief but it was enough to get him to finally peel his eyelids open. But even with them open, he could barely see anything. It was dark wherever he was, all he could make out were shapes and shadows. A shape moved in front of him and he flinched realizing the blob was actually a person.

            “Alexander,” they sighed and Alec tried to smile. It was Magnus, of course it was. Magnus had a tendency of being there when Alec was confused out of his damn mind.

            “Hey,” he replied. It came out cracked, like he hadn’t spoken in years and had just been pulled out of a tomb. He tried to clear his throat but nothing happened. A straw was pressed against his lips and he thankfully took a long sip of cold water. “Better, hi Magnus.”

            Lights began to turn on in the apartment and Alec was thankful. He didn’t have the strength to activate his night vision rune and really wanted to see what was going on. He didn’t recognize the apartment though. Unless he was in a room he had never been in before, this place was foreign to him. Magnus must have seen Alec’s confusion written all over his face.

            “This place isn’t my…taste,” Magnus said with a flourish of his hand. “But it was the closest safe place I knew of and couldn’t move you and Clary far.”

            Fuck. Clary. The warehouse. The demons.

            Alec tried to sit up but his entire body screamed in protest. “Shit,” he mumbled. “Where’s Clary? Is she…”

            “She’s alive,” Magnus replied but the way he voice shook told Alec that something bad happened. “Both of you were badly wounded. I couldn’t help both of you at the same time but she was lucid and insisted I helped you first.”

            Alec was unnerved by the way Magnus stopped and started his sentences, like he was picking each word one at a time.

            “We didn’t know what was wrong with you,” Magnus said quietly. His hands were in his lap and he looked smaller than Alec had ever seen him look. “You just kept screaming for Jace. Not even in pain but like you two were on opposite ends of the ocean just calling out to one another desperately.”

            He stopped again and looked at his hands again. Alec looked around the room they were in. Alec was propped on a few pillows haphazardly placed. Furniture was knocked over and there was a pool of blood next to him as well as another further away by the far wall, like someone had been leaning against it while they bled out. Alec looked at Magnus and finally noticed the bruising on his face. Magnus had been angling his face away from Alec but the bruises were noticeable, painfully sharp above his cheekbone and under his brow bone. Alec looked around the room again, there was no shock of red hair anywhere in the room. He lifted his hand and gingerly pressed it against his parabatai rune. He screamed in pain and Magnus watched, his eyes looking like he was being ripped apart from the inside.

            “He tracked me,” Alec whispered.

            “He came here,” Magnus continued, his voice shaky. “He only brought two other rogue shadowhunters, like he knew we were helpless.”

            “He probably could feel me dying,” Alec said solemnly. “It’s the perfect time to move. I would have done it too. Fuck, he probably led us here.”

            “He didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have thought it was really him if he didn’t have his face,” Magnus closed his eyes as he continued. “He just kicked my face and I couldn’t defend myself. My magic was the only thing keeping you alive. He took her, she screamed and clawed at him. She tried to fight but he just lifted her up like she was a rag doll and dragged her through the portal.”

            “I have,” Alec grunted as he sat up. “I have to go,” he huffed as he got to his knees. “Back to the institute.”

            He was standing now, the entire world felt like it was at an angle. He was weak, had lost a lot of blood and the remainder of his blood was poisoned.

            “Alexander, you’re too weak to travel,” Magnus said but his voice was resigned. He knew Alec wouldn’t rest, especially not when Jace was so fucked up he had actually hurt Magnus and taken Clary. Jace would never have done that. Never intentionally hurt Magnus or dragged Clary somewhere against her will. He knew Jace, inside and out. That wasn’t Jace.

            Alec stumbled against the wall and grunted as he braced himself. Magnus was at his side and gently pulled him upright again.

            “Alexander,” Magnus whispered, he didn’t trust his voice to stay strong. Alec had nearly died and he didn’t even have a chance to heal Clary before Jace took her. Magnus wanted to carry Alec back to the lair and move it to Antarctica, where the war couldn’t reach them. But Magnus knew Alec would never run from a fight, especially not this one.

            “Take us back to the institute,” Alec pleaded. His knees were wobbling but they needed to get away from this place. He knew Jace wouldn’t come back but there was no guarantee that Valentine wouldn’t send demons to clean up. “We’re not safe here.”

            Magnus nodded and leaned Alec against the wall. Alec clenched his jaw to hold back another grunt of pain. Magnus looked at him again, sadness and worry and anger mixing together on his face in a kaleidoscope of misery. He waved his arms twice and a portal opened. He slid under Alec’s shoulder again and hoisted him through the portal.

            Their landing was less than ideal. Alec lost his footing and Magnus wasn’t quick enough to catch him. They both slammed onto the runed training room floor. “Nailed it,” Magnus croaked as he rolled over onto his back. Alec simply grunted in reply. Magnus snapped his fingers and two anamorphous blue balls of light flew out of the room.

            “What were those?” Alec asked, his voice sounding like nails spilling out of a container.

            “Shadowhunters have fire messages, I have light messages,” Magnus replied. “Much more tasteful.”

            “Alec, what happened?” Lydia asked as her and Izzy slammed into the practice room. Isabelle dropped to her knees next to Alec and traced his healing rune with her steele. Alec grunted in pain again and closed his eyes.

            “Clary thought she had found Jace but it was a trap,” Magnus began, his voice low and on the edge of breaking. “Alec was dying and I couldn’t stop him. He just took Clary.”

            Lydia put her hand on Magnus’s shoulder while Isabelle asked, “what do you mean he took her?”

            “Magnus’s magic was the only thing keeping me alive,” Alec mumbled with his eyes still closed. “Jace and two other shadowhunters knew we wouldn’t be able to fight back. They came in, grabbed Clary, and portaled away.”

            Isabelle didn’t say a word, she simply crashed out of the room. Lydia sighed before mumbling, “I got her.”

            At the door she turned towards them again, Magnus had moved closer to Alec and was brushing stray hairs off his forehead. “It wasn’t your fault. Please don’t carry the guilt, it’ll weigh you down when we finally get the chance to kill Valentine.” She left the room as quiet as a secret.

            “I’m gon sleep for awhile,” Alec whispered before passing out. Magnus conjured a pillow and slid it under Alec’s head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

            “My angel,” he mumbled before standing up to check all the wards of protection he had cast prior while also adding more.

 

            Isabelle wasn’t in her room. Lydia closed the door quietly behind her before opening the door to Clary’s room. Isabelle was sat on the floor, her back leaning against the bed. Her fingers were lightly tracing over a charcoal drawing of herself in one of Clary’s sketch books. In the drawing, Isabelle was sitting cross legged in front of a mirror, her fingers touching the glass, her face pulled into a smile. It was the portrait of self-acceptance. Lydia closed the door and then sat next to Isabelle.

            “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispered, a stray tear smudging the lines on the page.

            “We’ll get her back, Izzy. I promise.”

            “You can’t promise something like that,” Isabelle said loudly. She had clenched her jaw but her chin still wobbled as the tears begged for release.

            “I can and I am,” Lydia protested softly. She took the sketch pad from Isabelle’s hands and flipped to another page. On the next page, Isabelle was dressed in all black, a pile of ashes from disintegrated demons under her feet. She had a small cut under her cheekbone and was pulling her hair up. A beautiful smile was on her face. She was triumphant, everything a shadowhunter was meant to be. An angel with vengeance laced into her bones, made up of grace, calcium, holiness, and grit. She was fallible but angelic in her humanity. “Clary is amazing,” she whispered as she gazed at the portrait.

            “Yeah,” Isabelle answered lamely.

            “You have feelings for her, don’t you?” Lydia asked. She closed the sketchbook and turned so her knees were pressed against the side of Izzy’s thigh.

            “I don’t know how to explain it,” Isabelle replied, her eyes dropping to the floor.

            “She’s cute, I understand,” Lydia said with a smile. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

            “I’m not ashamed of it,” Isabelle’s eyebrows knitted together as she tried to find the words. “I like boys, I like girls, I like people in-between, I like people that are neither. That’s not confusing for me, it never has been.”

            Lydia nodded and waited for Izzy to continue.

            “At first, when Clary crashed into our lives. Everything was new and it was,” she paused and rang her hands, “it was exciting. We were running and fighting, for once it felt like we were making a difference.”

            Lydia’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Isabelle caught the look and quickly said “I don’t mean that normal shadowhunting didn’t matter. It does matter! But it was like mowing the yard and then walking outside the next morning to find the grass had completely grown back.”

            Lydia nodded in understanding.

            “There was no ending,” Isabelle continued. “It was wake up, kill demons, sleep. Rinse, repeat. But then Clary shows up, this bright light of a person that wasn’t raised with our code. She didn’t know to shove her emotions down. She screamed, cried, killed, and laughed so freely. It was like finally reaching summer after the longest winter.”

            “It makes sense that you developed feelings for her,” Lydia replied.

            “I wish I hadn’t,” Isabelle whispered. “And now because of me, she’s gone.”

            “How does her being kidnapped relate to your feelings for her?” Lydia asked, now officially confused.

            “Because you came along and I stopped wanting her,” Isabelle confessed quietly. Lydia felt herself hold her breath. “And when I stopped wanting her, I stopped checking in on her as often, and then she ran headfirst into demons by herself. She called Alec for help, she didn’t even tell me and I didn’t fight to make sure I was there to keep her safe. I was too busy sulking about how confused I was about how I felt. Then Jace took her and Alec nearly died.”

            “Izzy,” Lydia said softly, she put her hand on Isabelle’s leg tentatively.

            “All the damn times Alec said that emotions got in the way, that shadowhunters were not to indulge their passing whims, I used to just roll my eyes. Because I could always do my job just fine, it didn’t matter who I was sleeping with. But this time, I let everything fall apart because I let my emotions get in the way, I let myself feel jealous and rejected and hurt and angry. I let Clary march headfirst into her death rather than just tell her ‘hey you have my heart and you’re just dragging it along the ground and now I’m starting to like someone else and I feel like I’m cheating on you even though you clearly don’t give a damn’. Emotions cloud judgement,” Isabelle concluded with a nod of her head. She took the sketchbook from Lydia’s hands and tossed it on the bed.

            “Izzy,” Lydia said as Isabelle climbed to her feet. “Isabelle, wait.”

            “Don’t worry,” Isabelle said. “I won’t talk about what I felt for you again. It’s already beginning to fade.”

            “No, Izzy,” Lydia said as she stood up too. Isabelle smiled at her sadly before opening the door and walking out of the room. Lydia followed after her. “Izzy, wait, I want to talk about it. I need to tell you-.”

            She stopped talking as they walked into the control room. Shadowhunters were racing back and forth, grabbing weapons and gearing up. Isabelle ran to Raj with Lydia on her heels.

            “Raj, what’s happening?” Isabelle asked.

            “The clave has ordered an attack on the Hotel Dumort,” he replied as he slid a seraph blade into his belt. “It’s been confirmed the vampire filth are working with Valentine.”

            Isabelle opened her mouth to protest but Lydia pulled her away by her wrist.

            “What are you doing?” Isabelle asked as Lydia pulled her back into the hallway. “We need to tell them that Valentine didn’t orchestrate the escape!”

            “That won’t do anything but get us arrested for helping Valentine,” Lydia whispered in reply. She opened the nearest door and pulled Isabelle into the room after her.

            “They’re gonna die,” Isabelle yelled as she began to pace. “They’re innocent, they didn’t do anything and they’re going to be killed without a shred of evidence because of something I did!”

            “Something we did!” Lydia shouted back. “You didn’t do any of this alone! You didn’t rescue Simon alone! You didn’t chose to let Alec go instead of you! Alec and I both told you to stay! You pulling away from Clary because you started to have feelings for someone else and became confused trying to figure out what the fuck you were feeling is normal! I could have told you to go! I could have respected that you had feelings for Clary. But I didn’t. I still let myself get caught up in wanting you, I let myself touch you, I put myself all up in your space. You were confused because I confused you. So please stop the self-pity, we don’t have time.”

            Isabelle had stopped pacing and just stared at Lydia.

            “So now that that’s settled, put all those feelings in a box and bury it,” Lydia commanded. “I have a plan and I need Magnus for it to work.”

            Lydia opened the door and walked out. Isabelle stayed where she was standing, more confused than she had been. Lydia stuck her head back in the room, “I get it, Izzy. A hot piece of ass just said she liked you back but there are lives to save.” Lydia disappeared again. Isabelle smirked to herself before running after her.

 

            Magnus had moved himself and Alec to Alec’s bedroom to insure that Alec could rest peacefully. That plan was foiled when Lydia and Isabelle slammed the door open. Alec leapt to his feet and pulled a seraph blade out from under his pillow. Magnus blinked in part amusement, part annoyance. Alec mumbled “oh hello” before falling to the carpet.

            “Alexander needs to rest,” Magnus said in a sharp tone as he pulled Alec back onto the bed.

            “Sorry, big brother, you can’t,” Isabelle said as she ran her steele over his healing rune again.

            “Magnus, do you know where all of Camille’s lairs are?” Lydia asked nonchalantly even though everyone else in the room tensed. Apart from Alec as he was still barely conscious.

            “I know most of them, why?” Magnus replied, his eyes on Alec’s face rather than Lydia’s. “I no longer care to visit them.”

            “That’s completely understandable but I’m going to need you to anyway,” Lydia said in a light voice. “As well as bring guests there.”

            “You wanna have a sleepover with Camille?” Alec asked, his words a little slurred as he struggled to fully wake up.

            “No, I want to frame her for espionage, aiding an enemy of the state, and also make it appear that she is still the leader of the New York Clan,” Lydia replied. She grabbed one of Alec’s arms and began to pull him from the bed. “We need to go now though before the assault of the Hotel starts.”

            “Who’s attacking the Hotel?” Alec asked as he stumbled on his feet.

            “The clave is,” Isabelle responded as she appraised Alec’s lack of balance, trying to determine if he should be left behind.

            “We can’t leave Alec behind,” Magnus said as he slid under Alec’s arm to keep him steady. “If we get caught, they’ll suspect Alec of aiding us and then throw him in prison too.”

            He waved his arms twice again and opened a portal.

            “Clear your mind of all thought. I’ll take us to the Hotel. Everyone hold on to Alexander.”

            Isabelle and Lydia grasped each other’s hands and held onto Alec as Magnus pulled them into the portal.

            They landed harshly in Raphael’s bedroom. Magnus knew where they were but the other’s gazed around in confusion at the lush decorations. Magnus shoved Alec onto the bed and said “rest” in a commanding voice.

            He opened the bedroom door and looked up and down the hallway. “Okay the coast is clear,” he said as he shut the door again. “I’ll leave and bring Raphael here. Do not leave this room. They’ll kill any shadowhunter on sight.”

            The door then opened. Magnus jumped in front of Alec to shield him, Isabelle and Lydia pulled out their seraph blades. Simon yelped in surprise before smiling ear to ear.

            “I knew you guys wouldn’t let us all die!” he said as he ran to hug Isabelle. “But um, why does Alec look like he just almost died? Where’s Clary?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> Let me just start by saying sorry, I suck. I was forced to move back in with my abuser and it sucks. High key. But I'm gonna work on writing more often. Again, I'm really really sorry. I love you guys.
> 
> A comment equals a kiss and a kudo equals a hug so hugs and kisses.
> 
> -C
> 
> (if u have any questions I'm alecalrightwood on tumblr, nox_clara on twitter and nox.clara on instagram)


	12. With a Smile on My Face as their Heads Hit the Floor

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Twelve

With a Smile on My Face as Their Heads Hit the Floor

            Clary woke with a start as she was unceremoniously dropped on the hard steel floor. She could taste blood in her mouth and could feel the bruises on her body. She tried to reach for her steele but realized her hands had been bound. Fear flooded her body as she opened her eyes to take in her surroundings.

            She was in a box. A big box. Steel. It was very similar to the shipping container Luke had found her in just a few weeks ago. But there was light streaming in through the cracks near the door. She started suddenly when she realized there was someone standing in front of the door.

            His back was too her. He was bigger than Jace. But he seemed old. She could see the top of his head through his thinning hair. He had to have been new to shadowhunting if he hadn’t realized she was awake yet. She kept one eye on him as she gazed around the container. She had to find a weapon, or something sharp enough to cut the rope binding her hands.

            The man coughed softly and Clary froze once again. But the man still seemed oblivious to her. She raised her hands to brush a hair out of eye when she realized that the rope around her wrists was a weapon. _You’re a shadowhunter now_ , the memory of Alec’s words echoed through her mind, _you’re a weapon in and of yourself_. Clary looked up at the man again, her eyes narrowed. She could either wait for Valentine to come and kill her. Or she could claw her way out of this hellhole. _You could die_ , Simon’s voice echoed through her head. _That’s a possibility_ , she thought, _but it’s a definite that these sons of bitches are coming to hell with me_.

            Clary rose to her feet silently. She kept her breathing shallow as she stepped towards the man. Then before she could allow herself to cower in fear, she leapt at him. She slid the rope around his neck and wrapped her legs around his middle. He grunted as he stepped backwards but he lost his footing and slammed into the wall. Clary screamed on impact but just pulled tighter. He grunted again as he started to slide down the wall. Clary regained her footing as he sunk to his knees. When she pulled the rope from around his neck, he slammed to the floor.

            Clary’s hands shook as she looked at the body, still warm but before the weight of what she had done could sink in- she darted from the container. The sun momentarily blinded her but she kept running. She slammed into another shipping container but bit back the scream. Finally, her vision returned and she could see that she was amidst a maze of shipping containers. She couldn’t see anything but orange and red colored steel every direction she turned.

            She ran down the row of containers, hoping to find the edge somehow. She could see sky above her and sky to the right of her. She stopped suddenly and looked harder. There was too much blue, that wasn’t just sky she was seeing. She slowed her steps and controlled her breathing, she needed to remain unnoticed for as long as possible. She crouched low as she reached the end of the row. Slowly and moving centimeters at a time she inched forward.

            It wasn’t the sky she was looking at. It was the ocean. Vast and wide. A liquid barrier blocking her from safety. She could jump and hope to drown before Valentine could find her. Maybe she’d wash ashore and Luke would catch the case and find his almost-daughter dead. Or maybe Valentine would fish her out. Hoist her up as an example of what will happen to those who try to run from him.

            She sunk closer to the boat’s surface as she heard voices. Three men were walking in the direction of the container she had been held in. After they passed, she began walking in the direction of which they came. She walked calmly. If she didn’t act like she was out of place, she wouldn’t appear out of place. She hadn’t made it far before the shouts from the men bellowed from the container.

            “Aw, someone can’t handle seeing a dead body,” she mocked before breaking into a run. A man stepped into her path and before he could recognize her, she slammed her elbow into his jaw. He fell back against the container next to him, his neck bent at a right angle. Clary mumbled “sorry” over his body as she pulled out his steele and seraph blade.

            She cut the rope before tucking the blade away. She ran the steele over her healing and stealth wounds before she slunk into the shadows between the containers. She put as much distance as she possibly could between the dead bodies and herself. The shouts of the other shadowhunters rained out across the boat. She knew it wouldn’t be long before they found her. There was a countless number of them and one of her, plus her hair was like a beacon.

            _If you can’t hide_ , Isabelle’s voice echoed through her mind, _flaunt your presence; make them afraid of you_. Clary looked around her again, there was nothing but containers. “Fuck it,” she mumbled. She grabbed ahold of the grooves on the container and slowly climbed to the top of it.

            She laid down immediately. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to flaunt her presence just yet. She peered around. The maze of containers was much smaller than she had thought, they were just positioned stupidly and not even remotely in an orderly fashion. She stared harder until she realized that there was a pattern. The containers were literally a maze full of twists and turns and rows. The only way out was to jump off the boat or climb out.

            A clap rung out through the silence then. The noise hit her like a gunshot as she realized that she never was escaping, she was simply entertaining.

            “Well done, Clarissa,” Valentine’s voice drawled. “It only took you ten minutes to escape!”

            Clary couldn’t move. She stayed where she was, pressed to the top of the container. Too terrified to move. Too terrified to even look at him. A hand gripped her ankle and pulled her off of the container.

            The fall was so quick she didn’t even have a chance to scream before she hit the ground. Her ears popped at the impact and her eyes filled with tears. Something was broken. She didn’t know which bone it was or in what part of the body, but something had snapped. She felt like there were cracks everywhere. No part of her was unaffected.

            A shadow fell over her and she closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t look at him.

            She whimpered as a hand roughly grabbed her wrist. She winced as the steele burned into her healing rune but she didn’t feel it’s effect. Almost as if her body had given up. It didn’t want to fight anymore. She didn’t want to fight anymore.

            “Just kill me,” she whispered to the body leaning over her.

            “I’m not gonna kill you,” Jace answered. Clary’s eyes opened and there he was. His face was bloody, as if he had been beaten just hours earlier. He wouldn’t make eye contact with her as he took the blade and steele from her. He threw them over his shoulder then wrapped rope around her wrists again.

            “Please, just do it,” Clary begged. “If you care about me at all.”

            “I don’t care about you,” Jace answered before he stood up. He pulled her up and threw her over his shoulder. The sharp bones of his shoulder knocked the wind out of her lungs and she struggled to breathe as he carried her away from the maze.

            “Jace, please,” she whispered. “You’re not this person! You don’t have to do this! Ja-”

            Before she could finish her plea, he dropped her to the ground again. They were inside a small room. There were no windows, one chair, and one door. He looked down at her, bleeding at his feet. His face showed no emotion. He turned away from her and walked towards the door.

            “JACE, PLEASE,” she screamed. He answered by slamming the door.

            Clary was shrouded in darkness. She couldn’t see the door, or where the walls were. She crawled until her head hit one wall and slid along it until she backed herself into a corner. She pulled her legs in close to her body and pressed her face into the fabric of her jeans. Sleep pulled her out of consciousness before the tears could come.

 

            She awoke again when the door slammed open. A dim light flooded the room but didn’t quite reach where she was cowered in the corner. Valentine entered the room and Clary pulled her knees closer to her chest. He dragged the wooden chair along the floor until he was directly in front of her. He sat down heavily and leaned his elbows against his knees as he peered at her. Clary stared back, fear flooding every inch of her body, but her jaw was set. Like she was daring him to kill her.

            “You puzzle me, Clarissa” he finally said. “I had no doubt that you were my daughter when you viciously tortured and murdered demons to get information. Or when you let vampires burn to death. Or when you killed two men without thought trying to escape my maze.”

            He stopped, as if he was politely waiting for Clary to speak. She swallowed slowly and raised her head higher.

            “But?” she asked. Her voice was harsh from lack of water but it was strong.

            “You kill so easily. Yet, here you sit, at my feet, after only one rescue attempt. Like a broken bird that tried to fly too soon.”

            “Maybe I’m waiting for the right moment to slit your throat and bleed you like the animal you are,” Clary spat back.

            “Harsh words coming from a girl who’s curled into a ball.”

            Clary simply glared.

            “You know,” he said as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “your brother is much more impressive than you. He killed six of my men getting out of the maze. Then waited until the door was open to attack again.”

            Clary willed herself not to let the image of Jace trying to claw away from Valentine enter her brain.

            “We had to beat him nearly to death twice to get him to submit. He’s a warrior, that one. But you,” Valentine suddenly stood and then crouched in front of her, “you are nothing but a weak, pathetic excuse of a daughter. No wonder Jocelyn left you behind so easily. You’re a disgrace.”

            Clary kept her face neutral and stared at Valentine’s eyebrows while he waited for a reaction. She did not allow the words to be heard, she simply was counting in her head. A constant stream of numbers. She had nearly hit three hundred before he stood again. He mumbled “pathetic” again before he turned to walk from the room.

            With an animal-like scream, Clary rolled forward and grabbed the chair. She hoisted it over her head and slammed it into his back. He stumbled forward as she threw herself into his back and tackled him to the ground. She screamed more as she slammed her fists against the back of his head and neck but before she could fully get ahold of him, he twisted beneath her. He was on his feet before she could so much as raise her arms to defend herself. He slammed her against the wall and as she slid to the floor, he shouted “THAT’S MY GIRL!”

            Clary once again tasted blood in her mouth and knew that if there was anything in her stomach, she would have vomited at the pride in his voice.

            “Good job, Clarissa,” he said before he strode from the room.

            Within a minute, another shadowhunter entered. She put a tray of food along with a glass of water on the floor. She then leaned over her and traced the healing wound. “Eat,” she said. Her voice was not unkind, but it was not warm either. “He will be back and he will expect you to fight.”

            “He nearly killed my brother for fighting,” Clary replied, her voice ragged.

            “He wants to break you like a stallion,” she responded. “Let him or he will simply break your neck.”

            She then left the room and shut the door behind her. Once again, Clary was wrapped in darkness.   


            She stayed in the dark for an unknowable amount of time. Was Jace broken by Valentine or was he simply placating to survive? Would he rise up and fight alongside Clary if she tried to escape? Or would he cower on the floor? Was Jace still his own person? Or had Valentine taken that too?

            For the first time in a long time, Clary fell asleep thinking about the days she would curl up on Luke’s couch. They would watch movies and eat pizza. Clary nearly always fell asleep with her head on Simon’s shoulder. She would wake to the sound of her mother and Luke talking softly in the kitchen with wine glasses in their hands. Her and Simon would have their heads on either arm rest, their legs tangled in the middle. She always had felt safe and loved there.

            She awoke to the door opening, quietly this time. She sat up and peered into the doorway. No one was there. She pondered silently. Was it a trap set by Valentine to test her? Or was it Jace silently trying to free her? She crept farther out of the room and looked down the hallway in both directions. She couldn’t see a single person. She steeled her nerves and prepared herself for more injuries, regardless of who had opened the door.

            She walked silently from the room and closed the door behind her. The longer her escape went unnoticed, the longer she had to get free. She chose to go towards the left. The hallway sharply turned right after a few feet. She peered around the corner to see a man with his back to her. She could see his runes. He was too large for her to bring down quietly. She backed away and walked the opposite direction. The hallway then turned left, she peered around the corner once again.

            Jace was standing there a few feet down. He was leaning against the wall and peeling an orange. He looked so normal, Clary could have cried. But she didn’t know if she could trust Jace or if she should try to take him down.

            He had refused to look her in the eyes after he had pulled her from the storage container, he had dropped her on the ground like she was nothing more than a duffle bag. Was he really so far gone that he no longer cared about bruising skin he had once ran his hands over?

            Clary shook her head at the memory. She needed to get out. If Jace fought back, he couldn’t be trusted. If he didn’t, then she could trust him. In any other situation, it would have been a ludicrous plan. But she didn’t have time. She steadied herself before she turned the corner. He was still peeling his orange when she lunged for him. She pulled them both to the ground and tried to press her knee against his throat. But before she could overpower him, he rolled out from under her and jumped back to his feet. She quickly followed suit.

            “You don’t have to do this,” she said with her fists raised.

            “Yes, I do,” he replied before lunging at her.

            Clary deflected his punch and countered quickly, the way he had taught her. But Jace hadn’t finished training her and quickly had her pinned on the ground.

            “Jace, just let me go,” she pleaded as she tried to dig her fingers into his eye socket. “We can get out of here. We can run far from here. Just you and me.”

            His grip loosened a bit and she rolled away and slammed her elbow against his jaw. He, in turn, elbowed her in the ribs.

            “This isn’t you,” Clary shouted.

            “You don’t know me,” Jace shouted back as he tried to wrap his arm around her neck. But she slammed her arm away and kicked him in the stomach.

            “I know you more than Valentine ever will,” she spat back. He knocked her feet out from under her but she caught herself and tackled him again.

            “He raised me,” he growled as he tried to get out of her grasp. But she had his arms pinned down under her legs and was shoving his face into the floor.

            “But I loved you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “No matter what you did, or who you hurt. I did and I do. And if I can’t love you the way I do then I’ll love you as a sister. Just let me, Jace.”  
            Jace ripped his arm out from under her leg and pushed her off of him. He crawled on top of her and pressed his forearm around her throat. She could hear her pulse in her ears when he said “to love is to destroy. You ruined me” before she passed out.

 

            Clary once again woke to find herself completely in darkness. She didn’t know if she was in that room again or buried under the ground. She couldn’t even see her hands when she held them in front of her face. She couldn’t tell if it was morning, noon, or night. All she knew definitively was that she was hungry and sore. More sore than hungry at this point. Her body felt like it was barely held together. All the injuries she had sustained since Jace disappeared ached.

            “Good morning, Clarissa,” Valentine said as he opened the door. He walked in carrying a small tray of food and another chair. He set the tray at his feet once he sat down.

            Clary stared at him. She would not eat at his feet like a dog. The one thing that wasn’t bruised was her ego. She wouldn’t beg or bow down to a monster. He simply chuckled before leaning back into the chair.

            “You are just like your mother,” he said with a smile. “Trying to appeal to someone’s heart in order to win a fight.”

            Clary stiffened but kept staring. Either Jace had told him what she had said or he had heard everything. Maybe he had orchestrated everything to see what Clary would do. Another maze she couldn’t possibly escape. She was a mouse and he loved to watch her scramble in an attempt to find freedom.

            “I do have to thank you though, Clarissa,” he began again, the ugly smile still painted on his face. “Because of you, I now know I can completely trust Jace. You begged him to help you, not once but twice. Yet he still dragged you back to your room and dropped you like a bag of trash. If I can trust him with you, I can trust him with anything.”

            Clary continued to stare at him but her mind spun. Yes, Jace had brought her back to her room but he didn’t throw her on the floor like he had done before. She would have woken up. She would have felt it, even now sitting on the floor. But she didn’t. She wasn’t tossed unceremoniously on the floor like she had meant nothing. She was set gently. She wasn’t woken. She was placed in the corner. She woke to feel the walls behind her. It was a small comfort, but a comfort none the less. Jace had done that.

            “Your mother was always good at the silent treatment too,” Valentine said lightly. Clary pulled herself from her thoughts. Valentine was now standing near the door. She could attack again. He was probably waiting for it.

            But wasn’t it better to let him think that he had won? If she stayed still she would let him think that Jace throwing her back in her cell had broken her, had taken her last ounce of hope. Valentine trusted Jace for doing what he was told. Maybe he’d trust Clary too. Enough for her to get off this god forsaken boat. Maybe enough to get Jace off with her. Maybe enough to get her hands on a steele. She’d blow the whole boat to hell without a second thought.

            Clary looked up to Valentine. He was staring at her from the door. She held his gaze a moment longer before bowing her head. “That’s my girl,” he said softly before leaving the room. As the door was shut, a scream of steel being pulled across steel filled the room. Then light flooded the room as a little window was uncovered. Valentine peered in through the window. “I’ll see you very soon, Clarissa,” he cooed.

            Clary resisted the urge to crumple in on herself once he left. She needed to stay sturdy. She couldn’t show any more weakness. _Emotions cloud judgment_. The memory of Alec’s voice danced through her mind. She missed him. She wished that he would track her, that he’d find her. That Magnus’s warlock tracking could find her. She could bring this whole boat down, leave it at the bottom of the ocean. But she needed to get out of this damn room first. She had spent so much time running from the clave, hoping beyond hope they wouldn’t be able to track her. Now she was a prisoner desperately hoping they’d track her. The irony was not lost on her.

            “Wait,” Clary said to herself. Her voice sounded like she had been smoking for forty years. But she ignored the sound as she ran her fingers over the rune on her left forearm. _It prevents you from being found with any shadowhunter tracking_.

            She crawled to the breakfast tray. There was a small butter knife. Not sharp enough to do anything more than peel a carrot but she had to at least try. Hopefully, Valentine would think it was just an injury from all the fighting. She took a few deep breaths. Then, with shaky hands, she pressed it as hard as she could against her skin. She just had to break the rune. She just had to give Alec a chance to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello   
> it's me.
> 
> Once again, I am terribly sorry this took so long. It hasn't gotten much better living with my abuser. A lot of that came out in this chapter so sorry. I'll be back soon with the next chapter hopefully. I already wrote half of it. I love you all and wish I was in a better place and could write more and write better for yall.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.  
> -C
> 
> alecalrightwood on tumblr btw


	13. It’s Not a Distaste, It’s Pure Hate

Loving You’s A Bloodsport

Chapter Thirteen

It’s Not a Distaste, It’s Pure Hate

            Simon stared at his group of friends with the elation leaking from his body like air out of a balloon. Alec could barely stand and had tears in his clothes. Magnus’ eyebrows were knitted together as he stared at Alec’s frame crumpling onto the bed. Isabelle had a look of determination on her face that only arrived when one had concluded they had nothing left to lose. Lydia was the brightest of the bunch with her hair pulled up in its signature ponytail.

            “Guys, where’s Clary?” Simon repeated to the group.

            “Gone,” Lydia responded. “But we’ll get her back.”

            “What do you mean?” Simon asked as he took a step closer to her, desperate for information. “You need to explain.”

            A beat of silence passed.

            “NOW,” he shouted. Lydia visibly flinched and Simon immediately regretted his brashness. “Please.”

            “Jace took her,” Alec said quietly from the bed. If he didn’t look like he was right on Death’s doorstep, Simon would have attacked him.

            “You just let him?” Simon was trying very hard not to yell again. It sounded like he was choking on a scone.

            “Alec was nearly dead,” Magnus replied as he positioned his body partially in front of Alec. “There was nothing he could have done. As Lydia said, we will get her back. But for now,” he flourished his hands around the room, “the sky is falling. Let’s get to work.”

            “Do you have a plan then?” Simon asked.

Before Lydia could divulge her plan, a loud explosion thundered through the hotel. Screams tore through the air followed by quieter explosions.

“Too late for the plan,” Isabelle said gruffly. She pushed past Simon and began to pull open the door.

“Izzy, we need a plan,” Alec choked out with his hand pressed against his ribs. He was bleeding again.

“You plan,” Isabelle replied. “I’ll buy us some time.”

She left the room with Lydia screaming after her. With his teeth gnashed together, Alec climbed to his feet and followed.

“Simon,” Alec said as he grabbed Simon by the shoulder and pulled him out with him. “Find me a perch where I can pick off the Shadowhunters without being in the thick of it.”

“Alexander,” Magnus started but he had no words to say. He had always known that this was who Alex was, at the core of him. He would die protecting Isabelle as she fought for what she believed in. He had his own comments, his own fundamental beliefs. But he could and would and had set them all aside for his baby sister. She’d fight against the clave alongside vampires while he covered her back. The least Magnus could do, at least in this fight, was cover Alec’s back.

The fight went on through most of the night. It was bloody but the reek of iron never detracted the vampires from their goal; survival. Isabelle twirled in the thick of it. She never aimed to kill, she simply wounded her fellow shadowhunters. She forced retreats with Alec a flight of stairs above her shooting arrows into shoulders, thighs, and knees. Magnus split his focus between defending Alec and himself while also casting spells to keep Alec upright. He was losing strength as fast as Magnus was replenishing it.

Isabelle had her whip wrapped tight around Raj’s throat when Maryse entered the fray. Isabelle dropped Raj and he crawled away as Maryse stepped towards Isabelle. Maryse’s teeth were barred, like she had forgotten in her anger that she was, in fact, not an animal.

“You disappoint me more and more every day,” she spat at Isabelle. She drew her seraph blade and began to walk towards Isabelle. Isabelle tightened her grip on her wip.

“STOP,” Alec screamed from above but it was for naught. Maryse lunged towards Isabelle with her blade. Isabelle knocked it off its course but it still cut her arm. She flicked her whip towards her mother but Maryse simply caught it, like it was string. She swung her blade again. Isabelle could only twist so far away. She screamed as it tore into the flesh of her side.

Alec watched her blood drop onto the floor and made his decision. He pulled back his arrow and whispered “forgive me”. Maryse had reared back her hand to strike Isabelle again. The arrow hit its mark in her forearm. She screamed as she dropped her blade. Isabelle quickly rolled and grabbed it off the floor. She kicked Maryse and knocked her onto the floor. Maryse fell and simply stared at Isabelle from the marble.

“You disappoint your children more and more every day,” Isabelle spat. She slammed the hilt of the sword against the side of her mother’s head and let her body fall to the floor. She wasn’t dead. But she was dead to Isabelle.

Alec fell back from the railing of the staircase. His back leaned against Magnus’s legs. He could feel himself slipping from consciousness. It was too much. He had lost too much blood. There was too much venom in his body. There was too much destruction. His family was in pieces. The clave had been torn apart. The accords were in tatters. It was too much. He slipped away from battle and slumped to the floor.

Magnus knew he wasn’t dead. His magic was wrapped around Alec so tight it was like a blanket. Magnus couldn’t drop his gaze. He was trying not to kill shadowhunters, but that often was the only course of action. He had milliseconds to decide, vampire or shadowhunter. Victim or cruel class of people blinded by purpose, privilege, and fear. He chose vampire every time.

Simon was shit in a fight. All he knew of fighting was what he had seen in movies. What he lacked in know-how, he made up in determination. His fangs had not retracted as he fought to protect the makeshift life he had created. He had clawed his way from the dirt after he had died. He was not going to die again. Not in this place again. Not after he finally grew something beautiful in his heart. He had Raphael Raphael Raphael. He fought for the future he wanted. He twirled from shadowhunter to shadowhunter, slammed his elbow into mouths, sunk his claws into chests. Magnus’s magic had saved his life a few times, but he escaped death many times just by screaming “NOPE” and dodging a seraph blade.

Simon had just screamed “NOPE” again, he had been doing it quite a lot the whole battle, when Magnus turned away to protect Raphael on the first floor. He caught a blade an inch from Raphael’s chest with his magic and threw it against the wall. Raphael smiled a toothy grin at him that was mostly fang when he saw Simon in the middle of the battle. He screamed his name, not knowing what else to do. Simon was not meant to be there. He was supposed to be safe and hidden away. Raphael hadn’t taught him how to fight yet. He wasn’t ready yet. This war had come to early. Or Simon had come too late. Regardless, this war wasn’t one that Simon had a part in.

Simon turned his head ever so slightly at the sound of Raphael’s calls and that’s when the world seemed to fall sideways. A seraph blade plunged into his stomach. Raphael screamed. Magnus’s magic rippled out from him and sent shadowhunters and vampires alike flying back five feet. Raphael was there before Simon had even fallen. Alec had woken as Magnus’s magic was ripped away from him. Raphael slowly lowered Simon to the floor. Simon kept mumbling “I’m alright, I’m alright,” but blood was bubbling on his lips.

“MAGNUS,” Raphael screamed. “CALL THEM.”

Magnus stood over Simon and Raphael, his face solid as stone.

“Damn it, Magnus,” Raphael screamed again. “I know you can do it! You’re more powerful than this! Use it! Stop this genocide! Save what’s mine!”

“No,” Magnus replied.

“Do what?” Alec asked from the ground. He hadn’t found the strength to sit up but he had crawled closer.

“Open a gate to hell and unleash demons,” Magnus said simply.

“You are a prince of hell!” Raphael shouted. His hands were now cupping Simon’s face. “End this attack! Save Simon! Call your army!”

“Do it,” Alec agreed quietly. “Have them attack the shadowhunters.”

“You could die,” Simon whispered. Raphael shushed him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m already dead,” Alec said simply. “At least save the mundane.”

“I’m not a mundane,” Simon responded. Raphael had his hands pressed against his wound and was crying quietly. “End this, then save Clary.”

Magnus stared at Simon’s small frame. He nodded once to Raphael before he dropped to his knees by Alec. He pressed his palm against Alec’s forehead and whispered “tuebor”. Purple flames erupted from his hand and coated Alec completely. After a few seconds, the flames went out. Magnus pressed his palm against the parabatai rune and whispered “tuebor” again. The flames erupted again but they didn’t engulf him.

The shadowhunters and vampires that had been thrown off their feet began to stir again. “Magnus, hurry!” Raphael shouted.

“Magnus,” Alec said quietly. He pulled Magnus’s hand from his side and pressed the palm against his lips. “Keep Izzy safe.”

Alec closed his eyes and passed out again. Isabelle was slowly climbing up the stairs towards them followed by Lydia. She fell next to Alec’s body. Lydia knelt next to Magnus. Before they could say a word, Magnus pressed his palm against both of their foreheads.

“What?” Lydia asked but her question was swallowed went the flames surrounded her.

Magnus stood again and walked towards Simon.

“Simon,” Magnus said quietly. Simon could barely keep his eyes open. “Simon, I need you to think very hard of Clary. That’s the only way for this spell to work. Help me keep her safe.”

Simon nodded and closed his eyes tightly. Raphael watched as Magnus pressed his palm against Simon’s forehead and whispered “tuebor” again. Simon wasn’t surrounded in the purple flames. His eyes flew open asking “did it work” without opening his mouth. Magnus nodded in response.

Magnus then stood. The hotel was filled with screams as the battle raged on around him but he simply closed his eyes. He spread his feet apart before he crouched down and pressed his palms against the marble.

“EXCITARE,” he shouted. His voice filled the entirety of the hotel. Shadowhunters paused and looked to each other. A true call of a warlock had not been heard in centuries. This generation had not yet been taught how wrathful a warlock could be.

“EXCITARE,” Magnus roared again. The columns of the hotel shook and screams of the wicked echoed. “EXCITARE!”

A wall was ripped away and in its place, a black shadow stood. Raphael was not afraid but Simon shook in his arms. Black figures slid out from the wall and dragged along the floor. They moved as swiftly as death. They were more smoke than creature. They rippled as they stood. “Immolabitque ad angelos in hoc loco,” Magnus growled.

The shadows then spread out along the floor and the walls, like a cancer ripping through a body. More screams filled up the hotel. Lydia pressed her hands against her ears as her screams mingled with the others. Magnus stood in front of them. It was like there were two of him. His body vibrated and shook from the sheer magnitude of the spell.

After ten minutes of hell on earth, Magnus knelt again and shouted “RECEDO”. The walls shook again as the shadows retreated into the portal. They screamed as they were pulled back. One was clawing into the floor as it was dragged. “RECEDO,” Magnus called one more time before the shadow faded to nothing and the wall returned.

“Shit,” Isabelle whispered.

Magnus was still shaking where he knelt. He turned back towards them. His eyes were blown wide and pitch black. His cheekbones were so prominent they looked like cliffs. Lydia slid back an inch from him. He looked like evil incarnate. He had just shown how much evil existed in the core of him. It was much more than the clave had estimated and projected. Magnus simply stared back at her. He was asked to let the devils come and play. He was asked to lay ruin to one group to stop their assault on another. He did it and he did not regret it. Her fear was something he’d have to carry from now on. He accepted that.

He looked away from her and dropped to his knees in front of Alec. He pressed his hands against his chest. “He is fine,” he said softly to Isabelle. The sound of his voice so normal after what he had just done scared the shit out of Isabelle. Everything about Magnus scared the shit out of Isabelle now. But Magnus had all this power in him, he could easily have overthrown the clave centuries ago. But he had chosen not to. He hid that power like a knife under his pillow. He never would draw upon it unless his home was threatened.

“He will need a blood transfusion though,” he said quietly. Isabelle nodded again. He stood and strode to Simon.

“That was like Aragorn at the end of Return of the King when he’s all like SAURON LETS FIGHT I’M READY TO KICK YOUR ASS,” Simon started, his voice shaky but still full of excitement. “And then the gate opens and then the entirety of the city just crumbles and falls into the earth! You just crumbled the earth!”

Magnus pulled his mouth into a small smile as he pressed his hands against Simon’s wound. He repeated healing spells and felt Simon’s skin and organs knit back together under his palms. He’d much prefer to mend rather than destroy. He did not relish the royal blood his father had bestowed upon him. He never wanted to rule, much less lead. But damn, he did look good in a crown.

The vampires had begun to move once again. Some fed on the dead shadowhunters, others tended to their wounded, others pulled their dead lovers out of the hallways trying to bestow them with some sense of privacy.

“Thank you, Magnus,” Raphael said. His voice was steady again. He once again sounded like the clan leader and soldier, rather than the boy clinging onto his love slipping through his fingertips. “The vampires will never forget this or the sacrifice of the Lightwood and Branwell shadowhunters. But please, leave us to tend to those we have lost.”

Magnus nodded and pulled Raphael into a hug. Raphael thumped his back before pulling Simon onto his feet and walking down the hallway towards his clan. Magnus turned back to the rest of his brigade. “Shall we?” he asked. Isabelle nodded and grabbed onto Lydia’s arm and Alec’s jacket. Magnus wrapped his hand around Alec’s wrist, opened a portal, and pulled them through to his lair.

They landed sloppily. Lydia had one leg on the coffee table, one on the ground. Isabelle simply laid on the ground, her entire body too tired to even breathe. Alec hadn’t woken during the trip and was still passed out. Magnus stumbled away from all of them.

“Yes, well,” he said as he attempted to regain his balance. “That wasn’t my best display of magic. First things first,” he flourished his wrists again and lifted the entirety of the lair. It plopped down again in another unknown part of the city and he fell against the sofa. “That was another wonderful showcase of my talents.”

He crawled towards Alec and Isabelle. With a snap, an IV attached both to of their arms and the transfusion began. He fell back again and tried to stay awake.

The screams still seemed to echo through Lydia’s head. They had filled up her entire body. She could see them, her friends, being dragged away into the shadows. She felt their fear and their pain as if it was their own. She didn’t even know how many had died. How many were lost to those creatures’ claws?

“How many?” Lydia asked after a few minutes of silence. Her voice was stoic, she sounded shell-shocked.

“How many what?” Isabelle slurred in response.

“How many shadowhunters did you murder tonight, Magnus?” Lydia asked. She was the only one still standing.

“I wasn’t keeping a running tally,” Magnus replied.

“Don’t make jokes,” Lydia shouted. “You just opened a portal to hell and sicked demons, a kind of demon I have never even seen before, on all of those shadowhunters! You killed all of them, without thought!”

“It actually required a lot of thought,” Magnus said simply. “That spell is very tricky.”

“You’re a monster,” she said. Her voice as hard as a brick.

Magnus sat up and stared at her. His cheekbones weren’t as prominent as they had been but his eyes were still black. “Yes, I am. I am a monstrous murderer. I am a downworlder and I will kill to keep downworlders alive. I would do what I did tonight again in face of a genocide. Your people led a crusade against an entire race of people with no evidence to substantiate their claims. They simply attack. Proof be damned. The law be damned. That’s what happens when power is given without any oversight. Talk to your damned angel if you want to protect people without killing some. Get a new rune for your own race’s stupidity.”

“Go to hell,” she spat.

“I’m from there,” Magnus spat back. “You’re free to go back to the clave. After all, I gave more than half of them time to retreat before I – oh how did you word it? OH, before I ‘just opened a portal to hell and sicked demons’ on them.”

“You can’t go,” Isabelle interjected as she struggled to sit up. “You know they were wrong. That’s why we were there. Because you had a plan to stop it.”

“My plan was to move the vampires to give us more time to arrange a diplomatic solution!”

“It was a great – albeit naïve – plan. But it went to hell. And your people were trying to kill you too. I don’t understand how you don’t see that,” Magnus added. He was still slumped on the floor. He was talking more to the ceiling than to Lydia from his awkward angle.

“They believed in what they were fighting for,” she replied.

“I believed in what I was fighting for,” Isabelle said. “My mother believed in what she was fighting for. She would have killed me. I’m glad she’s dead.”

“Isabelle,” Lydia started.

“She’s not dead,” Magnus interrupted.

“What?” Both girls asked at the same time.

“She left long before I opened the portal,” he said simply. “Plus, the spell I cast protected her as well.”

“What spell?” Lydia asked.

“Remember when I set you on fire?” Magnus asked, his voice slightly incredulous. “Really? You’ve already forgotten? That was a remarkable bit of magic.”

“Sorry, it was overshadowed when you knocked down a wall and replaced it with Satan’s doorstep,” Isabelle retorted as she laid back down on the floor. The transfusion was taking up a lot of her energy.

“That was a protection spell. I casted it to also go along your bloodline. Your mother, father, and Max were all set on fire.”

“I would pay to have seen Max’s reaction.”

“You did it twice on Alec,” Lydia said. It was a statement but it carried a question as well.

“Once to protect him, the other to reach his parabatai.”

“You cast it on Jace?” Lydia finally sat down as she asked.

“Yes and Clary as well through Simon.”

“That’s remarkable magic,” she said shocked. She leaned back against the couch.

Lydia was far from satisfied but the anger had subsided. She couldn’t determine if it was the exhaustion that dissipated the anger or if she really could let the horrors she had witnessed tonight go.

Magnus closed his eyes again. Of course, he was keeping a running tally. Of course, he was constantly waging how many had fallen. He was more so doing it to fuel his anger. His magic was much more concise when it was fueled by a fiery hatred. He was a flame tonight in his rage. He knew the ratio of vampires to shadowhunters killed. He felt each of them die. He’d never find a way to stop hearing their bodies falling against the marble. He would never forget the echo of seraph blades clanging down the stairs.

He still had his magic in the hotel. It was vined through the walls. It was there for protection but he wanted to keep part of his consciousness aware. That hotel, that haven for vampires, had become a battleground tonight. He never wanted to lose that knowledge. No matter how old he became, he could not lose the knowledge of how far the clave had gone. Or how far he had gone to protect the downworld.

“Twenty-five,” Magnus said after a few moments of silence.

“What?” Isabelle asked, her voice sluggish.

“You asked how many were killed,” Magnus answered. “Twenty-five shadowhunters, forty-three vampires.

“Would have been twenty-seven shadowhunters and forty-four vampires if I hadn’t ended it. Simon, Alec, and Isabelle were all slipping away. I decided them over those twelve that were killed from my spell. Thirteen had already died. So, yes Lydia. There was thought in my action. Maybe not a thought you ever would allow yourself to think, but you are not a prince of hell. I am. You can see why our viewpoints may be different.”

Lydia did not reply to Magnus. A quiet fell over them again and they had nearly all fallen asleep before Alec quietly mumbled, “if we get married, will I also become a prince of hell?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me. Here is another installment! I'm trying to go back to posting semi-regularly. I want to get this fic finished before the show comes back on! I'm thinking just one or two more chapters. SO hold on to your hats.
> 
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss, so hugs and kisses.  
> -C
> 
> alecalrightwood.tumblr.com


	14. I'll Protect You

Chapter Fourteen

I’ll Protect You

            Clary sat in the middle of her small cell of a room. She spent all her time in the little patch of light that shined in through the small window. Her wrist was still bleeding from the rune she had attempted to break. She gave up after the pain became too great. The rune was seared into her skin, it felt like it went to her bones. Her head felt light from the blood loss and her body was just begging for rest. She refused.

            Clary had her legs tucked under her, her hands crossed in her laps, and her eyes trained on the door. She listened as footsteps echoed through the hallway outside the locked door. She counted how many steps they took in each direction, gauged the height of each person passing. She needed to know how many bodies she needed to get past to get off the boat. She refused to remain a prisoner while the world burned outside.

            The door opening shook her from her thoughts. She sprung to her feet and stood calmly. She didn’t raise her fists in defiance. She simply steadied her body, ready for anything. Jace entered the room and Clary remained firm.

            “I’ve been sent to get you,” he said simply. His voice was flat and his eyes looked very far away.

            “By?” Clary asked. She could have guessed the answer but she wanted to hear his response.

            “Valentine,” was all he said before he turned and motioned for her to follow him out of the room.

            “Don’t you mean daddy dearest?” she mocked as she followed after him.

            “I’ll tell Luke you said that,” Jace replied, his voice so low that Clary would have missed it if she hadn’t been so attentively looking for a sign that he was ready to fight back. Him alluding that Luke was her father was exactly that sign.

            “Have you ever seen Titanic?” Clary asked, her voice airy. “I used to always love the scene where the guy was going to paint the girl and she said ‘paint me like one of your French girls’.”

            Jace looked over at her, his eyebrows burrowed in confusion. “We didn’t get to watch many movies while we were growing up, you know, on account of all the protecting the world.”

            “Oh yeah,” Clary replied sarcastically. “I forgot that you had saved the world five times before you turned thirteen.”

            “More like ten times,” he replied in the same mocking tone.

            “Did Simon never bitch about the ending to you?” Clary asked. She tried to communicate with her eyebrows that this conversation was meant to mean something.

            “Is that the movie where they freeze on a door?” Jace asked. He nodded, a small thing, a slight upward tilt of his head to indicate he realized she was trying to tell him something.

            “Yeah! This big ass boat made to be the most powerful, indestructible thing, went down because of an explosion,” she said, her hands moved to indicate an explosion in front of her.

            “Simon said it was like a glacier,” Jace replied with another tiny nod.

            “You’re right. It was an iceberg. There’s another movie like it where a giant wave knocks this giant cruise ship over and it flipped,” she replied and waved her hand in front of her to show the conversation was no longer coded. “Point is, big boats freak me out. There are never any happy movies about big boats making it to their destination.”

            “Well yeah, who cares about the stories that go right?” Jace said, his voice hard. He stopped walking and Clary stared at the door in front of them.

            It looked like every other door on the boat but the way Jace shook slightly looking at it put her teeth on edge. He looked at her briefly and she knew he wanted to say something. He clenched his jaw tightly before pulling her closer to him.

            “I need you to remember when we went to the City of Bones, when I told you about the soul sword. Remember how I told you that if you weren’t strong enough, you would die. You were strong enough, Clary. I don’t know what you did to stand it, but I need you to do it again.”

            He leaned away from her and knocked on the door before she could fully process what he had said. The door opened and she was pulled into the room. The door closed loudly and she summoned the fiery determination she had surrounded herself in before the soul sword sank into her forehead. She would not crack.

            Before a moment had even passed, a fist collided with her jaw. She fell to the floor and on instinct somersaulted away from her assailant. She crouched on the floor as he smirked at her. He was nearly three times her size widthwise. He was as tall as Alec but he didn’t carry himself the way Alec did. This man carried himself like he was a tank and he couldn’t wait to destroy everything in his path.

            Clary briefly remembered the bruises marring Jace’s face when he pulled her from the maze. She concluded that this was the man that had gave them to him. Her determination was quickly replaced by rage. She didn’t have the brute force of Jace nor the technical training, but she was quick and her anger was like fire all over her skin.

            Her anger cascaded out of her body in an angry screech before she leapt at the man. One fist landed against his cheekbone, the other hand wrapped around his neck, her thumb pressed against his pulse. She kicked one foot against his groin. He shouted and lost his footing. She followed him onto the floor and gave him no time to recover as she slammed her fists against his face, his hands pinned by her knees.

            Clary was thrown off him by another man, whom she hadn’t noticed. She rolled again as soon as she hit the ground and stared at her new attacker. He was shorter than the sputtering mess of a man on the floor. He had less determination than the first man too, as if a part of him didn’t want to hurt a little girl. She felt her mouth pull into a snarl at his weakness.

            “Wanna play?” she asked. He shifted on his feet, like half of him wanted to back away while the other half knew to stand his ground.

            She lunged at him as quickly as she had the first man, but before she barreled into him, she tucked her head and slammed her shoulder against his chest. She felt his breath whoosh out of him and shoved him onto the floor. Without a thought, she slammed her knee against his head and knocked him out.

            The first man had scrambled back to his feet and pinned Clary against the wall in her moment of distraction. She attempted to kick him but he simply leaned closer to her until most of her body was crushed by him. His hand was around her throat and his mouth was close to his ear when he whispered, “this is going to hurt. Feel free to scream.”

-

            Clary woke back in her tiny cell of a room. She was once again in the corner where Jace had placed her. She tried to sit up but her body protested. Her body felt torn to shreds. Her shoulder had been pulled out of its socket and now her arm was in a make shift sling. Her arms were covered in scratches and bruises. She could feel that both of her eyes were blackened. She probably had bruises around her neck from the numerous times she had nearly been suffocated to death just to be released for the beating to continue.

            Clary knew that if she had given up and submitted, she would have been spared. But she was a forest fire. She could not simply be stomped out. She had faked it in the end out of sheer exhaustion. She begged for it to stop, said she’d do anything, and asked for her father. The man had let her go with a laugh and a chortle of “they always break” before exiting the room. Jace had entered shortly after, his expression purposely blank. Clary let herself pass out when she saw him and knew he’d get her out of there.

            The door opened after she had finally pulled herself into an upright position. Valentine strode into the room.

            “Well done, Clarissa,” he praised as he sat atop his wooden chair. “I must say, the fight you put up was incredibly impressive. I couldn’t imagine having anyone else at my left-hand side as we take apart the Clave.”

            “Left-hand?” Clary asked, attempting to sound broken and committed to earning her father’s favor. “I didn’t earn a spot at your right side after all of that? I tore apart those men like they were made of paper, I have shredded demons with my bare hands, I have let vampires burn. And yet, you keep me third?”

            “Your commitment is exhilarating but yes, Clarissa. I’m afraid your brother is the better warrior. He’s the monster I built him to be. Your bloodlust is refreshing though.” He leaned back in his chair and began to leave the room. “You’re allowed out of your room now. Jace will show you around.”

            As Valentine left, Jace entered. He crouched next to her and traced her healing rune with his steele.

            “How long have I been here?” She asked quietly.

            “Almost two days,” he replied as he poked and prodded at her injuries.

            “I thought it had been a month,” she whispered. She felt like she had lost an impossible amount of time.

            “He wants you to feel like that,” he answered as he pulled her slowly to her feet. “He doesn’t let you rest long between beatings so you can never completely heal and you feel trapped.”

            “Why is he stopping it now?” Clary asked and instinctively reached out to Jace when she wobbled on her feet.

            “Something’s changed, I don’t know what. He calls me his right-hand man but that’s only in battle. I don’t know any of the actual plans.”

            Before Clary could respond, Jace was suddenly wrapped in purple flames. She yanked her hand away before it could burn her. He looked down at his hands and watched the flames.

            “Jace,” she started.

            “It doesn’t hurt,” he responded. The flames flickered out and he frowned at her. “What the hell?”

            Clary jumped when the flames engulfed her. Jace was right, it didn’t hurt. It felt pleasant even. Warm and comforting.

            “Magnus,” Clary said softly when the flames subsided.

            “You think?” Jace asked.

            “Yes,” Clary responded. “Give me the steele, and take me to the engine room later tonight. It’s time to be an iceberg.”

            Jace handed her the steele without another word. After a few hours he returned to her room and lead the way out of the room. They passed shadowhunters without raising any suspicion. They wove through the hallways and down a flight of staircase. They stopped outside the door that Jace promised lead to the engine room.

            “You won’t have time to get out before the explosion,” Jace said in a flat voice.

            “Not before the little one, no,” Clary said simply. She twirled the steele. “But we’ll be able to jump before the second one.”

            “Clary,” Jace started.

            “You can go now, if you want,” Clary interrupted. “Swim as far as you can, get back to Alec, and fix everything I tore apart.”

            “No.”

            “Jace, I came into this world and blew it to hell. The least I can do is kill Valentine. If I die in the process, it’s no skin off anyone’s back.”

            “Don’t do that to Luke or your mom,” Jace put his hand on her shoulder. “They fought for so long to keep you safe from him. Don’t die with him. Give me a three minute head start, start the first explosion, run like hell, and jump off of the north end of the boat.”

            Clary looked to him and then nodded. He sprinted away and Clary waited two minutes before she kicked open the door. She strode into the room and crossed to the far wall. She took a deep breath, slid the sling off her arm, and readied her body to run. She traced the rune, a wicked spiral thing. She had slightly altered it from the one she drew before, hoping against hope that the extra twist she added was the time release she was aiming for and that the tightness of the spiral would triple the intensity.

            She was out of the engine room and up on the deck of the boat sprinting before she heard the first sounds of the explosion.

            “Clary, you’re too early,” Jace shouted to her but she simply grabbed his hand and they both leapt over the side of the boat. They swam as fast as they could but the blast knocked them under the water. Jace clung onto Clary’s arm and it was pulled from its socket once again. They rolled under the water, pushed by the energy and magnitude of the blast. When they reached the surface again, Clary was sure she had drowned and woken up in hell.

            The ocean looked like it was burning. The boat was a mass of floating flames. There were screams being swallowed up by the night. Clary felt a strange flicker of pride deep within her core as she watched the remnants of her father’s castle burn. Jace tugged on her again and they began to swim towards shore again.

            When they reached the shore, their bodies were numb and shaking from the cold. “We have to move,” Jace whispered over and over again but neither of them could muster the strength to even shift from the rocks. Clary thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to just die there. She was under the sky full of stars in her city covered in the marks of the world that her mother had nearly died to protect her from. She suddenly felt a strange warmth cover her entire body, the same warmth she felt from the purple flames. She closed her eyes and thought _come get us_. After ten minutes, Clary could hear her name from the distance and she smiled to herself, imagining it was her mother calling her home. Before long, she fell asleep dreaming of her mother’s arms.

            Clary woke with a jolt when she was pulled off the ground, her body instantly shifting into defense mode. She would not let another one of Valentine’s men beat her senseless, make her beg to remain alive, make her bow just at the whisper of his name. She’d die first.

            Clary twisted finally in the arms and ended up falling to the ground. She once again rolled away before standing in a defensive position. The movement was enough to topple her back to her knees.

            “Clary,” a voice said softly. She looked up at her assailant and after staring for a few moments, his face fell away to reveal Luke. He was crouched in front of her, his face so pained it broke her heart.

            “Dad,” was all she could say before she burst into tears and he picked her up again.

            “You’re safe now, you’re safe now,” he repeated to her as he slowly retreated up the rocks to where Isabelle and Magnus were waiting and Alec following behind him helping Jace.

            “I wanna go home,” Clary sobbed against Luke’s chest. All the fight bled out of her the minute she saw Luke. _I’m safe I’m safe I’m safe_ echoed in her head like a song.

            “We will, baby girl,” Luke answered with a kiss to her forehead. “We just have to check you out, Magnus is going to heal you best he can.”

            She nodded solemnly. She began to fall asleep before a scream of “CLARISSA” tore through the air. Luke placed her on the ground and stood between her and Valentine. Jace, Alec, Isabelle, and Magnus also braced themselves for another fight.

            “Lucien, if you put one of your filthy hands on my daughter again, I’ll skin you alive,” he threatened as he crawled over the rocks.

            Jace felt nauseous at the sight of him. His clothes were mangled and clinging to his frame from blood and water. His eyes were wild and his face was covered in burnt flesh.

            “Jace,” Valentine commanded. Jace felt his whole-body flinch. “Kill them all.”

            “No,” he answered. His voice shook on the syllable but he meant it. He would never again kill for or because of his father.

            “JOHNATHON,” Valentine bellowed and Jace flinched again. Alec and Isabelle both took a step forward to stand in front of him.

            “Don’t talk to my brother like that,” Isabelle said flippantly as she twirled her whip threateningly.

            “What are you going to do?” Valentine asked, his head twisting in a sickening swivel towards her.

            “Don’t hurt her,” Clary called quietly from behind Luke and he felt a piece of him break at the sheer helplessness and fear in her voice.

            “Enough,” Luke yelled. “I’m tired.”

            He pulled his pistol from the side holster and aimed it at Valentine.

            “Really Lucien?” Valentine barked out a laugh. “You’re going to execute me with such a mundane weapon? How insulting.”

            “I don’t care,” Luke mumbled before squeezing the trigger.

            Valentine crumpled onto the rocks and Jace fell to the concrete as well. Clary worried for a minute that somehow the bullet had ricocheted and hit Jace as well before she saw him start to rock back and forth on his knees. He was in shock. Clary thought that she must be too but she felt very far away. Her hands didn’t feel like they were hers any longer, like she had been separated from her fingertips. She barely registered being picked up again, or being placed in the back of a car. She didn’t feel the bumps of the road or annoyance at the traffic. She simply stared at the window, barely aware of the city as it passed. Her body no longer felt like it was hers. This world no longer felt like hers either. She had bled for it, been broken apart for it, but all that sacrifice did nothing to appease the guilt burrowed deep in the core of her. Valentine wanted his daughter to be nothing more than an angelic monster and he had gotten exactly what he wanted. She watched her father die and hadn’t felt a thing. Part of her felt that she’d never feel a thing again.

 

-

 

Sunlight streamed in through the rose-colored curtains. Clary watched it dance through the room and smiled to herself. It had been two months since the night the boat exploded. Clary had killed 73 shadowhunters that night. The unforgiving ocean killed another 18. Valentine had died on the rocks. The imminent threat had passed. Clary was safe. She knew she was safe. That knowledge did nothing to stop her from slamming her elbows into rib cages when she was grabbed from behind.

            Jace and her both clenched their hands around blades when doors opened unexpectedly. Clary would bristle for a fight when something slammed while Jace flinched and ducked. Jace would apologize afterwards while Clary simply floated away. She would wander to the corner of a room, sit on the floor with her legs crossed and watch the sunlight dance.

            Alec and Magnus constantly grounded each other with small touches and kind words. They sat with their hands intertwined while in a group and spent their time alone simply holding onto each other. Alec had nearly died and Magnus had cracked himself open to unleash a power he had stowed out of sight centuries before. They both still felt raw, vulnerable, and scared. The Clave had been shattered with Alec, Isabelle, and Lydia frequently called in for counsel on the restructuring of the government, as they were the only shadowhunters on speaking terms with leadership of all the downworlder’s factions. All three of them were slowly becoming leaders, creating a government that protected all members of society and valued all lives as equal.

            Raphael and Simon found themselves stumbling over themselves as they fell in love with each other. Raphael had to learn how to trust Simon again. Simon struggled to find a way to balance his faith with his new sense of self. He had finally found a way to see his family again. Rather than tell them that he was now undead, he simply told them that he was pansexual and so in love with his boyfriend that he wanted to live with him. They accepted it, if not a little skeptically, and made Simon promise for a dinner and movie night once a week. He happily obliged and would often bring Raphael with him arguing that Raphael needed a film education whenever Raphael objected. Simon taught Raphael of his faith, the intricates of it, and what it meant to him. They celebrated Jewish and Catholic holidays alike. Simon soaked up all the knowledge of Catholicism that Raphael bestowed upon him. They both observed and respected each other. Raphael still threatened to throw Simon out a window when Simon went on an endless rant about how much of a badass Frodo was, but he never actually followed through. Simon counted that as successful.

            Lydia and Isabelle found themselves spending more and more nights together discussing law and what needed to be altered to strip shadowhunters of their privilege while also ensuring the rights of downworlders were protected. These nights slowly spread into meals being spent together. Lydia kissed Isabelle after Isabelle ripped an entire article from the accords with a screech of “good thing these racist motherfuckers are dead otherwise I’d hunt them down”. She never got to finish her threat as Lydia’s mouth pressed softly against her lips.

            It had been two months but Isabelle still refused to acknowledge her mother as anything more than a coworker. She referred to her as Maryse and only spoke to her when it was necessary. Alec couldn’t even look at her. He only felt a mix of shame, betrayal, guilt, and seam splitting anger when he saw her. She had made her displeasure of Lydia and Isabelle’s relationship known which only lead to Isabelle wearing shirts with aggressive sayings about her bisexuality.

            Luke had spent the two months splitting his time between helping Clary and Jace recover, work, and searching all of Camille’s apartments to find the Book of the White. His first instinct was to run all the way to Magnus’s lair and demand they wake Jocelyn immediately but at the last minute decided to bring the book to Clary.

            Clary was watching the sunlight through the curtains when Luke crouched in front of her.

            “Clary,” Luke said softly. She glanced at him to acknowledge him before looking back to the curtains. “I found the book of the white, we can wake your mother.”

            Clary slowly looked back to him.

            “Clary, this is good news.”

            She blinked at him slowly.

            “None of this has happened to her yet,” Clary replied.

            “What?”

            “Her first love hasn’t been murdered yet. Her mundane daughter doesn’t have a body count of over a hundred under her belt yet. Simon is still a mundane. The clave is intact. Her son isn’t back from the dead. The second you wake her up, all of this is going to happen to her, Luke. She’s going to wake up and find out her husband is dead and her daughter is a monster just like him.”

            Clary climbed to her feet and slowly began to leave the room.

            “Clary, wait.”

            “I know you need to wake her up,” she replied with her back to him. “Jace needs his mother. I don’t want to see her though. Go to the institute, I’ll stay here.”

            “She’ll want to see you,” Luke said quietly.

            “I don’t want to meet her without you,” Jace said from the other corner. Luke jumped a little, he hadn’t noticed him sitting there. “She can meet both of her monster children at one time.”

            “You’re not a monster,” Clary said softly. “I told you, Jace. He twisted and manipulated and abused you. None of it is your fault.”

            “Why can you not understand the same is true for you?” Jace replied.

            “He didn’t make me kill anyone,” she snapped. “I chose. I decided in those moments that their lives didn’t matter. Until I find a way to remedy that, I can’t stand to even look at myself.”

            “I think Jocelyn will be able to help both of you,” Luke suggested.

            “Clary,” Jace pleaded.

            “Fine,” she said as she crossed her arms. “Let’s go wake up sleeping beauty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! This story is officially done. This ended up way longer than I originally planned. This was supposed to be a one-shot lmao. If you have any suggestions or anything, hit up my ask at alecalrightwood on tumblr. I love filling requests.  
> Also I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone that kept up with this story and left such wonderful comments. I love you all so much. I honestly just can't wait for the next season.  
> OH if you have any tag suggestions for this fic so it can be found later, can you leave a comment? I suck at tagging stories.  
> Okay! That's all! I love you!  
> A kudo equals a hug and a comment equals a kiss so hugs and kisses!  
> -C


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